


Quiescent

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Peter Hale, Bestiality, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bloodlust, Broken Bones, Character Turned Into Vampire, Comfort, Death, Dom/sub Undertones, Feeding, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, MENTION OF:, Mage Stiles, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Major Character Undeath, More warnings as chapters progress, Necrophilia, Oral Knotting, Pain, Sassy Peter, Sick Stiles, Suicide, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets turned into a vampire and him and Peter are forced to deal with the changes together. The pack questions the unusual development of their relationship as Peter finds the best possible way to feed Stiles, as unpopular as it is with Derek and others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I haven’t even had time to **practice** this spell, let alone perfect it,” Stiles voiced his concern finally, nervously biting his nail until the edge of it broke and he yanked it off between his teeth, “How do we even know it’ll work? What if Vampires don’t count as ‘dead’, but are more classified as ‘undead’?”

He payed at the register and took the bag from the older man, waving off the receipt before turning to Peter then and walking out of the store with him, “What if it flops completely? What if it leaves me drained and useless, and you guys are stuck to fight him alone? There’s like fifty things that can go wrong with this, and one that _might_ go right.”

“Ye who have little faith,” Peter shook his head and side-glanced Stiles, pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock the car, “If Deaton seems to think it’ll work, then it’ll probably work. It’s a chance we have to take. And if you end up out for the count, then we’ll just have to handle it without you.”

“Ye who is use to being fucked in the ass by every plan that goes horribly wrong, you mean,” Stiles corrected the older man, climbing into the passenger’s side and putting on his seat belt before pilfering through the bag and pulling out the large black gem, nearly as heavy as a bowling ball, but about the size of his fist.

“I’ve never even **used** a catalyst before, this rock better do what it’s supposed to, because the hole it’s caused in my wallet is embarrassingly large, and I don’t like being stiffed by an off brand object,” He murmured as he looked into it, weighing it between hands, “I could always just chuck it at his head, if things go south.”

Peter snickered as he fastened his own seat belt and leaned forward to start the engine, “Like you could put enough power behind it to do any real damage.”

He put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot, “I would, however, like to see you try. It would definitely be amusing.”

Stiles reached in the bag to pull a few other items out, looking through them, opening the bottles and sniffing curiously, “My stock’s been needing to grow for a while now anyways, I wouldn’t mind buying out that whole store. You know, a short stop for food wouldn’t hurt on time,” He looked at Peter suggestively, “The mage **does** like to work on a full belly.”

Peter glanced over at Stiles just briefly and sighed, turning the steering wheel to pull into the McDonald’s parking lot, “Fine,” He conceded as he pulled up to the drive-thru, “But you’re not getting a kid’s meal like you did last time, Stiles, I mean it.”

Rolling his window down and pulling up to order, he looked at Stiles pointedly with his brows raised, as if to say ‘I’m not kidding, I will strangle you’.

Stiles’s mouth popped open and he glared at Peter, “Don’t start with me, the toys are the best part,” He leaned over the steering wheel, grinning, “Can I get two boy happy meals with cokes?” He sat back in his seat, smug as Hell as he reached into the bag to grab his change from the magic store.

“You’re such an insufferable little shit sometimes, you know that?” Peter asked, lifting his ass from the seat to pull his wallet from his back pocket, “I’ve got it, put your money away.”

It was pretty common for the younger man to do things to piss him off, or to irritate him, but truth be told, it had been a long time since he’d actually gotten aggravated with Stiles. He lifted his foot from the break and pulled around to the first window and paid, smiling at the cashier before pulling up to the second window to wait on the food.

Stiles sighed and put the bag down between his legs, rolling his eyes at Peter’s seemingly casual chivalry. He liked to think that maybe there was more to it, but he knew he was over-thinking things. He always did, he **always** read into things too much.

Peter was a dear friend at this point, but Stiles kind of like to see more in his mundane acts, as simple as they were, “You know you like it,” He joked, taking the cokes as Peter handed them over and stuffing one in the empty cup holder while sipping on his, bending the straw up and grinning.

Peter rolled his window back up and pulled out of the parking lot, “I wish that were the case,” He lied, “It would probably make me want to decapitate you a little less when you do something I specifically tell you not to.” It wasn’t necessarily that he **did** like it, he’d just become accustomed to the younger man’s defiance and snark - preferred it, even.

“It’s my food, bitch, I have it **my** way,” Stiles argued, “You can just deal with whatever way that is.”

He opened up the happy meal, fishing out the toy and ignoring it for the moment while he grabbed the burger and fries, “Why even hate on happy meals? Do you have something against them, _personally_? Did someone always steal your toys when you were younger?”

“First of all, it’s **not** Burger King,” Peter said, licking his lips idly as he debated with the younger man, eyes firmly on the road, “Second of all, you’re nineteen years old and yet you still prefer the happy meals. It just doesn’t make sense it all.”

Stiles raised his brow in challenge, “I don’t care if it’s Burger King or Subway, I’m eating it the way I want it, and for McDees, it’s always a Happy Meal. What does age have to do with anything? Do I suddenly have to start wearing boring clothes, like you do? Or get some fancy mid-life crisis convertible and listen to classical music instead of the good stuff? Age is a number. I choose to be me, and I refuse to fit into this ridiculous mold you’ve decided to shape adults into. It’s gonna be Happy Meals when I’m eighty.”

“ _Please_ ,” Peter rolled his eyes at Stiles then and huffed indignantly, smirking slightly to himself, “My clothes are anything but boring, I look fabulous. And I said absolutely nothing about music or clothing, so don’t take my words and run with them. I was speaking specifically about happy meals and your ridiculous, undying love for them.”

“Well, I never complain about your ridiculous, undying love for skin,” Stiles said as he polished off his fries, “Well, I mean I do comment on it and pun and joke occasionally, but I never stop you from being creepy. You shouldn’t try to stop me from enjoying a meal made for an eight year old. I’m not the only ‘adult’ that eats the damn things. And today could like... Be like my last day alive, so maybe you just let me have what I want and smile and pat me on the head for being a good boy and not going out to by a Yacht, yeah?”

Peter slowed the car at a red light and turned slightly to look at Stiles, narrowing his eyebrows thoughtfully at the younger man before reaching across to pat him on the head, “You’re right,” He said, hand gliding down to the nape of the boy’s neck and he squeezed slightly, grin spreading.

“You are a good boy,” He cooed sarcastically, chuckling to himself before retracting his hand all together, lifting his foot from the break, “But it’s not your last day alive,” He said, a little more serious this time, “Don’t be so melodramatic.”

Stiles felt the familiar chill of bumps over his flesh in response to Peter’s touch - the guy got so creepy some times, and it was completely fucking ridiculous how much it turned him on, “You never know,” He said, wetting his lips before taking a huge bite of his burger, “I could try to use the catalyst and explode from the force, guts everywhere, you never know.”

Peter huffed in response to Stiles but didn’t indulge the younger man with more than that, keeping quiet for the rest of the ride to his house. He put the car in park and looked at his watch before turning to look at Stiles, “Try not to take forever, Desperate Housewives comes on in an hour and a half.”

Stiles pushed his happy meals over into Peter’s lap, setting his coke on the dash and opening the door. He climbed out, wiping his palms on his jeans and moving up to the house.

His dad’s cruiser was parked outside, which meant that Stiles would get to see him before he left to take care of this Vampire. That kind of comforted him, the thought of seeing his dad, just in case things went sour. He moved to the door and unlocked it with the keys from his back pocket, moving in and shutting it behind him. He walked upstairs, into his room and over to his desk to gather the rest of his things for the spell.

Roderick had been waiting for the better part of an hour, standing stock-still in the shadows of the boy’s closet. He waited until he could see the younger man’s back more clearly from where the door was cracked and he moved quietly, his stealth leaving the boy oblivious as he moved and wrapped his arms around him, holding him in place as he sunk his fangs down into his neck.

Stiles gasped, eyes widening as he felt the steel firm grip of arms around his body and he shook, “No-” He barely managed the word as the vampire bit him.

It all happened so fast, before he’d even gotten the chance to realize what was done and his head dropped back as he tried to will himself, tried to think of something, anything he could do fast enough, but nothing was coming to mind, “Peter,” He said, heart racing as he struggled.

Peter looked up suddenly from checking his emails on his phone when he heard Stiles, brows furrowing in concern and he climbed out of the car immediately to rush into the house. He growled when the scent hit his nose, something unfamiliar, threatening, _dead_.

“Shut up,” Roderick growled just next to Stiles’s ear, blood dripping down his chin and he tightened his hold on the boy even more and glanced at the window. It was likely one of the kid’s pack members, trying to come and save him.

He moved swiftly, though, and backed himself up against the window, claws pressed to the younger man’s neck to keep the werewolf from making any brash moves.

“What–” Stiles hadn’t really ever thought of himself as the damsel in distress, but he couldn’t help immediately feeling like Princess Peach or Zelda, or some shit, and his heart raced as he closed his eyes, recognizing the press of ice cold fingers and sharp nails digging against his skin.

Peter rushed up the stairs and into Stiles’s room, fangs almost immediately coming out at the sight of the Vampire holding Stiles captive, and he growled, “Let him go,” He said, moving slowly and carefully, keeping a wise distance so the creature didn’t feel the need to slash the younger man’s throat.

“First you listen to me,” Roderick demanded, letting his claws dig into the boy’s skin just a little as he spoke to the werewolf.

“You have something I want, your alpha’s been keeping it hidden. If you bring it to me by midnight, I’ll give you the **cure** for this...” He yanked Stiles’s head to the side, showing the other man the bite, “Meet me at the reserve. If you don’t show, then he’ll die.”

Peter listened intently and tried to figure out if the Vampire was lying to him, but there was no heart beat to judge, no way to tell - which in turn made him incredibly uneasy. He had to do what the creature wanted, **they** had to do what he wanted, because the disease the man was riddled with - if you could call him that - it wasn’t something he wanted to see Stiles succumb to.

“Alright,” Peter said, staring the other man in the eyes as he put his hands up to show he intended no harm, “Alright, whatever you want, just let the kid go.”

Roderick narrowed his eyes at the werewolf and nodded once, shoving Stiles forward as he ducked out of the window. If they **didn’t** bring what he wanted, at least he’d still have a brand new weapon to unleash when the time came.

Stiles caught his footing and looked at Peter in concern, he moved to the werewolf, eyes brimming with tears, and even though he wanted to curl against the man and act like a child, he resisted the urge as he reached up to touch his neck, feeling the bite, “I... I tried to stop him. I didn’t know he was there, I had my back turned, I-”

“It’s okay,” Peter said numbly, unsure as to if it **was** or not and reached out to turn Stiles’s head to the side to get a good look, “You’ll be fine.” He let go of his chin to look at Stiles, brows still furrowed as he watched the younger man’s amber eyes swell with tears.

Peter grabbed a handful of the boy’s shirt and pulled him into a one-armed hug, trying to soothe him, “You’ll be fine,” He repeated, again.


	2. Chapter 2

Within the next hour, Stiles went from feeling kind of okay, save the stinging pain in his neck, to feeling heavily sick with the flu - he was colder at once, breaking out into an uneasy sweat, and it felt like their were worms crawling all over his body.

Stiles sat in Peter’s passenger’s side seat, trembling as he tried to smooth his hands over his arms for warmth. His headache was heavy on his nose, sinuses stuffed and sore, and he felt as if the front of his face was packed with cotton.

He was miserable, in short, and the moment Peter parked outside of Derek’s loft, he took off his seat belt and climbed from the car, grabbing his things for the spell to bring inside with them, since they were now unfortunately aware of the fact that Vampires could walk in sunlight.

Peter frowned as he watched Stiles, the younger man’s scent was practically changing right under his nose. As he exited the vehicle and joined the boy’s side, he couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the pack would be able to smell it as well, curious as to if the rest of them would be able to see the subtle differences in Stiles, the way he could.

He rested his palm just between the younger man’s shoulder blades as they took the elevator together, his eyes glued to the bite on the side of his friend’s neck.

“Do you have any clue what it is he wants?” He asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the clotting blood to look Stiles in the eyes.

“My only guess is the key,” Stiles said, voice tight as he leaned into Peter as carefully as he could.

He didn’t want to bombard the man, wanting his support, wanting to be close, but Stiles was one of those needy sick people - the hand on his back was appreciated, though, “That’s the only thing I’ve asked Derek to hold onto, right? I don’t even know what the fucking thing _does_ , but the mage that gave it to me... He **told** me to keep it safe, that it was important. Giving it over to this fucking ass-lick doesn’t sound like ‘keeping it safe’, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Peter said, raising his brows at Stiles, “But if you think I’m just going to sit on the sidelines and watch you turn into one of them, you obviously don’t know me very well. If he wants the key, we’ll give him the key. We **need** that cure, Stiles, you need it.”

Stiles tried to argue, even though he knew it wasn’t worth it, none of the pack would see his side of things, he already knew it, “What if that thing is volatile? What if he gets his claws on it and completely fucks up everything? We don’t know what it can do, Peter. What if it’s **really** bad?”

“Whatever it is,” Peter mumbled softly as they walked down the hall to his nephew’s loft, “It’s not as bad as losing you would be. One step at a time, we’ll handle it.” He side-glanced at Stiles and smoothed his thumb over the cotton of the younger man’s shirt, trying to show him that he cared.

“Peter,” Stiles looked at the older man, swallowing as he felt his insides twist, and not just metaphorically.

He stayed quiet, though, resisting the urge to argue further, and they walked into Derek’s loft, which mostly reeked of the scent of worry. Stiles didn’t even need a lupine nose to smell it, he could **tell**. His eyes met Scott’s first, and he wet his lips as he stayed close to Peter.

Scott remained seated for a moment until his eyes dropped to the blood staining his friend’s shirt, and then he was up and standing in front of Stiles so quickly it kind of left him lightheaded, “Dude, what the hell happened?” He asked, sounding a little frantic as he gestured to his friend’s neck.

He didn’t really wait for a response before leaning in and scenting Stiles, “You don’t smell right,” He grimaced, “ _Talk_.”

Peter sighed at Scott and planted his palm firmly on the beta’s chest, forcing him back a little, “Give him room to breathe, would you?” He glanced around and met Scott’s eyes again, “Where’s Derek?”

Scott glared at Peter and had to fight the urge to be defiant, “In the kitchen,” He offered, prying his eyes from the older man to look back at Stiles with concern.

Stiles watched his friend apologetically, “We kinda have a uh... Serious problem-” He broke into a fit of coughs, pressing his fist to his mouth as he tried to breathe properly.

“You didn’t smell sick yesterday,” Derek observed as he came into the room then, looking Stiles over as he walked forward and turned the younger man’s head, staring at the nasty, graceless bite as he breathed in, smelling the venom before he looked at Peter, “You weren’t with him?”

Peter shook his head minutely, “I was waiting in the car, he went inside to grab a few things. It was inside the house... I didn’t know, couldn’t hear his heart beat.” The way Derek was looking at him made him feel guilty, because he should’ve went inside with Stiles. Perhaps if he had, it wouldn’t have happened.

“So they can get into houses without invitation, **and** walk out in sunlight,” Stiles tried to lighten the tension between the two alphas, “Now we know.”

Derek turned and glared at Stiles for a moment before looking at Peter once more, “Don’t leave him alone again,” He said, and though he couldn’t press his rank on his uncle, it was clear that he would fuck Peter up if any more happened to Stiles, “Go to the bathroom with him, sit on the toilet while he showers, I don’t care. **Don’t** leave him alone again.” He turned away, “And patch that thing on his neck up.”

Peter tried not to grit his teeth together as Derek stalked off, tamping down the urge to roll his eyes and he turned to Stiles, “Come on, looks like it’s time to test my first aide skills.”

He ushered the younger man to the bathroom and pulled the kit out of the cabinet, setting it next to the sink as he narrowed his eyebrows at Stiles. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, pulling out the alcohol and gauze, eyes dropping to the torn skin.

Stiles rubbed at his shoulders and shook his head as he tried to find his voice, “Not good,” He said, “I’m fucking freezing, and my face... Like everything above my neck feels like it got hit by a truck or something.”

He reached out and turned on the water to mull their voices, leaning in and speaking lowly to Peter, “I know he’s holding you responsible, but I’m not, okay? This isn’t your fault.”

“It kind of is,” Peter said mindlessly as he poured some of the liquid onto the gauze, stepping close enough to dab at the bite and wincing sympathetically as he did so, “I should’ve went inside with you, instead of waiting for you in the car. He has good reason to hold me responsible.”

“And what would you have done if you were in the room with me?” Stiles defended Peter, “The guy was fast, like... Like fucking Quicksilver fast, okay. And I’ve been shoved around by you guys enough before, you don’t have **anything** on this guy. He was like... _Immovable Object_ strong. It was like I was being held by metal rods. You couldn’t have stopped him, the first thing he did was bite me. So **don’t** blame yourself, because nothing would’ve happened differently.”

“It’s good to know the bite hasn’t affected your ability to talk me to death,” Peter said lightheartedly as he cleaned the wound, trying to deflect the situation some, “After I get this dressed, do you want some decongestant to see if it’ll help any?” Stiles could tell him that it wasn’t his fault, and that there wasn’t anything he could’ve done, but he’d inevitably still blame himself for it.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Stiles responded to the question, looking away and ignoring the idea of answering, it probably wouldn’t do much for what he was feeling anyways.

That was the only downside to their banter, though - he never knew when Peter heard him, or when he _heard_ him, “Fine, if you wanna feel guilty, the first thing I do when I come back, all undead and shit, I’m gonna bite the fuck out of you. I mean it.”

“No you don’t,” Peter shook his head and frowned, grabbing Stiles by the chin and forcing him to meet his eyes as he held the gauze to the younger man’s neck with his other hand, “I think we both know you don’t mean it. And I don’t really think now is the time to be arguing with one another, do you?” He asked softly, finally pulling his hand back.

Stiles sighed and shook his head, “Well, **I** don’t blame you. I **do** mean that,” He leaned against the counter, at first it was to kind of feel less like their awkward staring was intimate, but then he felt a sudden wave of cold and dizziness hit him, and he reached out for Peter, to try and steady his other side.

Peter’s frown deepened and he moved closer, hand moving to the younger man’s hip to settle him, “You’re not going to make it until midnight,” His gaze dropped to his friend’s paling lips, “We need to go before then.” He wasn’t even sure if the vampire would be there, but he had to do something, he had to try.

“We can’t,” Stiles shook his head, “If we’re even going to give him the damn thing, we need to do it **right** , Peter.”

He let out a breath as he swallowed, “If we go now, I doubt he’ll be there waiting, thinking we’d try to get the drop on him. I have to make the spell - if I do that, we can catch him after I get the cure, but we can’t go before that. I’m fine, just... I feel like shit, but I’m okay.”

“You’re **not** okay, Stiles, you’re not,” Peter searched the younger man’s face, slowly withdrawing his hand from the younger man’s hip, “Don’t try to candy coat it. What if the guy was lying, what if there's no cure?” He asked, removing the bloodied gauze and pressing a clean one to his neck, sticking it in place with medical tape.

“Then we’re already fucking screwed, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it,” Stiles said without missing a beat.

There was no reason to be gentle, it was either gonna happen or it wasn’t, Peter needed to understand that, “Then I die. But if we have a chance, **if** there’s a cure, **if** he has it, we need to do it on **his** terms. If it’s a lie, then we pop him with the spell, and you get some... Sense of revenge. There’s nothing _else_ we can do.”

“Revenge?” Peter asked incredulously, finally stepping away from his friend and staring at him with widened eyes, “You think I’d want _revenge_?” He shook his head slowly and snorted at the younger man, “I want you **alive**... And not roaming the streets as one of _them_ , for fuck’s sake.”

He exhaled and his shoulders slumped, “Nothing about this entire situation is okay, it doesn’t feel _right_.”

Stiles nodded and swallowed as he stared into the alpha’s eyes, “I know, I know it doesn’t, how do you think **I** feel?” He asked rhetorically.

“You just... Promise me... Don’t let me turn into one of those things. I’ve never liked Vampires. I don’t wanna hurt anyone. If I become like him, you have to stop me from hurting anyone. I won’t be human, I won’t be me again, if it comes to that... Put me out of my misery, **promise** me that you will.”

Peter continued to stare at Stiles for a moment, pressing his lips together firmly as he moved to close up the first aide kit, “I’ll do what I have to do to keep you from killing people,” He put the kit back and turned to Stiles once again, crossing his arms defiantly, “But I’m not going to kill you, you can’t make me promise to do something like that. I won’t do it.”

“So you’re fine with me turning into a creepy, soulless leech?” Stiles asked, but he kind of understood what Peter meant, so he didn’t press any more than that.

He felt too bad to argue, he didn’t want what actually **could** be his last hours alive spent being angry at Peter and fighting with him, “You know... I was kidding before,” He laughed as he felt the tears brimming again, “I didn’t **actually** think I was going to implode, using the catalyst. Now, it’s like that’s the least of my worries.”

Peter swallowed thickly, arms hanging numbly by his sides as he watched his friend’s eyes water, again. He’d never been an overly emotional person and he didn’t hand out hugs to just _anyone_ , but seeing Stiles cry was some sort of kryptonite for him, and he couldn’t handle it.

The alpha moved forward and pulled the boy into a hug - and it wasn’t one of his infamous, stingy, half-assed hugs, either. It was enveloping - both arms wrapped firmly around Stiles’s body as he held him close, “Try to leave the worrying to me.”

Stiles felt eased at once, wrapping his arms around the alpha and closing his eyes as he nodded and tried to breathe, tried to keep himself together, “It’s hard to do that. Like, I wanna call my dad, I wanna talk to him, but I don’t wanna worry him or bother him with anything, and calling might make me wanna go see him. I know it’s just better that I keep quiet until it blows over, but I’m freaking the fuck out. _Peter-_ ”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, “About the only thing I agreed with Derek on... Don’t leave, don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t,” Peter replied at once and rested his cheek against Stiles’s shoulder, “That’s something I **can** promise you. I won’t leave you alone, not even for a minute.”

The concern he felt towards Stiles wasn’t completely unfounded. They’d grown kind of close over the years, especially with Stiles being the only one who treated him like a human - ironically enough - or even like an equal. But he could feel something else there, it was like there was something else just under the surface of their friendship, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on and sometimes it seemed like _more_ than just concern.

“Thanks,” Stiles pulled away first, but held onto Peter still for support, dizzy spell in full effect as he tried to wave it off, “So uh, are we done with the emotional shit? Because it’s seriously draining, and I have a lot to do before midnight. We’ve gotta get going and work on this spell, or we’re seriously screwed.”

“Yes, come on,” Peter cleared his throat and patted Stiles on the shoulder, turning the sink off and staying close to the boy as he ushered him out of the bathroom.

He could practically feel the sway to Stiles’s step, the slight tremble to his body, but other than being nearby, helping and offering support, he really didn’t know what else to do. It was unnerving, watching his friend slowly fall to pieces and knowing there was nothing he could do.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles spread out the things he’d need for the spell on his left side, sitting on the floor of Peter’s livingroom, which was only a little weird looking, since they’d moved all of the furniture against the walls.

He kept getting dizzy, but he didn’t mention it to the older man. Over the time it took to get there though, there were small things like that - the numbing of his fingers, losing complete feeling in his legs every once in a while, and the aches in his jaw - that all made him really uneasy, but still he didn’t say anything about it.

Stiles started mixing what he always joked were ‘ingredients’, and Alan would just stare at him and shake his head, assure him that he wasn’t cooking - the good doctor always referred to them as ‘essentials’.

He sat silently, other than occasionally coughing, knowing that Scott was outside somewhere, watching over them, and Peter - though sitting calmly across from him - was probably poised for attack, in case anything should happen.

Stiles didn’t _need_ them to be quiet, but it helped him concentrate, which **normally** was already hard enough, but now it was like he could barely pull himself together long enough to do it.

Stiles clutched the blanket on his shoulders, shivering and sweating, skin ghostly pale, he imagined. He stopped and looked at Peter as he swallowed sickly, “Uh... Let’s... Take a break,” He blinked, closing his eyes for a moment, “Can you help me up? Be careful, don’t knock anything over.”

Peter tried to swallow down the knot he felt in his throat as he stared at Stiles, nodding slowly and grunting as he stood up and moved around to him, side stepping everything the best he could.

He crouched down and wrapped his arms up under the younger man’s arm pits, pulling him up slowly and carefully, trying not to hurt him, because Stiles looked fragile, skin pale and almost translucent. Everything was going downhill and it was like the boy was deteriorating before his eyes, the coughing fits lasted longer, his eyes weren’t quite as bright and there was almost a constant tremble to his hands.

“Where do you wanna go? Bathroom, kitchen?” He asked, tentatively wrapping Stiles's arm around his shoulder for support, “Couch?”

“Bathroom, like now,” Stiles breathed, wiping his mouth and pressing his fist to his lips as he felt the saliva building around his tongue. Even though Peter had been gentle in helping him up, more careful than he’d ever seen the older man, he still got vertigo and he clutched at the alpha with his free hand as he shook his head, “Seriously, like now, before I throw up McDee burgers and fries all over your floor.”

Peter helped Stiles to the bathroom as quickly as possible, lifting the toilet seat for him before taking a step back. The alpha crouched just behind Stiles and grimaced to himself, smoothing his palm along his friend’s back, trying to ease him even though he knew it was fruitless.

The part that **actually** worried Stiles about throwing up the happy meals from earlier wasn’t the fact that it was completely disgusting, burned his throat, and he hadn’t puked in like... _Years_. But it was the fact that, other than the burn and the tears on his face, he couldn’t **taste** it, which probably could’ve been good or bad, really. Some times food coming back up doesn’t taste completely horrible, even though it’s gross to do - but he couldn’t taste it at all.

He dry heaved afterwards, stomach convulsing, body shaking until he could barely breathe and he slumped, letting out a bated breath as he flushed the toilet and stayed still, stomach still uneasy, but he willed it down.

Stiles sat back, grabbing a few squares of toilet paper and wiping his mouth as he leaned against the wall and looked at Peter, “At least I got to keep the toys,” He joked halfheartedly.

Peter frowned at Stiles’s joke and stood up, moving to grab a clean wash cloth, wetting it with warm water in the sink before returning to the younger man. He crouched back down, again, and wiped his friend’s face down, cleaning his lips and chin more thoroughly before pulling the rag away.

“What good are the toys going to be if you’re dead?” The alpha asked, clenching his jaw somewhat, “I can go to the reserve **now** , just to see if he’s there, Stiles.”

“Don’t, you could just get **yourself** bit, and then where would we be?”Stiles shook his head, “We can’t risk it, stay, don’t leave me.”

He reached out, touching the alpha’s arm and staring into his eyes, “I mean, I know I probably smell like a walking infection, and now all the vomit and stuff, but don’t go. I don’t wanna be alone, and you can’t exactly take me with you. We have to wait. I’m not even halfway done with the spell, but we should probably do it soon, before I start getting _really_ bad, I can hardly think as it is.”

“You know, I don’t **have** to listen to you,” Peter said, tossing the rag into the sink as he moved to help Stiles back up to his feet, “I could just go ahead and go.”

They both knew he wouldn’t, though, because he’d made a promise to Stiles. He wouldn’t leave him, because despite some of the horrible things he’d done in his past, he always kept his word to Stiles.

“But you won’t,” Stiles more or less guessed, trying to sound sure of himself.

He felt like it wasn’t just his insides crumbling, but everything else, and that needy side of him needed Peter there. He was scared enough already, he didn’t want to be without the alpha. He moved passed Peter, trying to keep himself steady, but his legs weren’t working right, and his stomach suddenly felt so sharp, like a dagger was being shoved into his side.

Stiles gasped and touched his waist, “Can you-” He started, voice tight, “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk on my own, just hurry, before it gets any worse.”

Peter moved to Stiles at once and pulled the younger man’s arm over his shoulder as he had before, his other hand moving to hold the boy’s hip to keep him steady. He walked him back into the livingroom slowly, perpetual frown plastered to his face as Stiles’s decaying scent filled his senses.

After helping his friend back down, Peter sat next to him and readjusted the covers back over Stiles's shoulders, leaning in close in hopes that his body heat would help some to warm the younger man.

Stiles reached out with shaking hands as he pulled up Alan’s book and rested it in his lap. Normally, this was his favorite part of making any spell - seeing the magic happen - it was what made mixing things and having all of the right stuff worth it. But now, he just wanted to get it over so he could lay down.

He lit the candle across from the gem with a wave of his hand and dusted the mixture around each of them in a solid circle, speaking the incantation as clearly and softly as possible. It was difficult to sound demanding when he felt like he’d dry heave again at any moment, and his jaw ached every time he moved his mouth, but he tried to remain calm.

The room darkened considerably, the light over head exploded and Stiles narrowed his brows as he glanced at Peter apologetically before he continued, voice getting louder as he reached out with both hands, touching the gem as he drew the spell inward.

Peter’s brows furrowed slightly as he glanced up at the busted out light, gaze falling back down to Stiles tentatively as he watched him work on the spell. He wanted to burrow in closer, to put his arms around the boy to keep his skin from getting cold, and he wanted to just talk to him, because he wasn’t really sure how much time they had left before Stiles was so overwhelmed with blood-lust that he wouldn’t remember who he was, let alone who Peter was.

Casting spells normally took a lot of energy, and Stiles didn’t have much of his own to spare, so he reached out blindly for Peter, eyes open, staring ahead as he took the alpha’s arm and drew from him instead.

He wasn’t sure if he would’ve even had enough to do it if he’d been at a hundred percent, without needing to take from the older man, but normally it wasn’t a lot. He did, some times, very rarely, draw from the alpha, but Peter never knew, and it was normally very little, so much that the alpha wouldn’t notice at all. But Stiles could tell at once that he drained a considerable amount this time.

His breath quickened as he let go of the werewolf, reaching back to the gem and pushing the spell inside of it. He dropped his hands away, sitting back as he breathed and shook even harder than before.

Peter’s eyes widened a little as he watched Stiles, but he didn’t pull away from the younger man. He felt kind of drained when the boy finally stopped touching him, exhausted like he didn’t really have energy to do much other than just blink and exist, for a while.

Stiles’s body was trembling hard enough that he could feel it simply through the vibrations of the floor, so he forced himself to move anyways, wrapping his arm around his friend’s back to pull him closer.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, smoothing his palm up and down Stiles’s arm in an attempt to help him get warmer.

Stiles nodded and turned to curl against the older man, “Not really, no,” He admitted honestly, “It’s done though, I mean, it should be good. There’s no real saying if it’ll work on a Vampire, but it’ll stop anything dead from moving, that’s for sure. Not that dead things normally move,” He muttered, grabbing the front of Peter’s shirt, “Once you think **you** can, can you take me to your room or something? I’m... It’s getting to the point where even _breathing_ hurts.”

“Sure, just...” Peter exhaled and tilted his head so that his temple was laying against the younger man’s hair, “Just give me a second.”

He sat there for a moment and listened to Stiles’s shallow breathing as he felt his strength return. Granted, he was still exhausted, but he didn’t want his friend to sit uncomfortably on the floor for any longer than necessary.

“Alright,” The alpha mumbled and moved slowly, careful as to not jostle Stiles too much. He picked the smaller man up and held him close, cradling his body against his chest as he carried him to the bedroom.

After laying the boy down, Peter sat just next to him and reached up to touch his cheek, frowning at how cool his skin was. “You’re frigid,” He observed, thumb mindlessly brushing the skin before he pulled back, “Do you want some more covers?”

“I’m fine, I doubt any amount of them is going to heat me up,” Stiles shifted slightly, arms shaking as he used them to move on the bed. He reached underneath himself, pulling out his cell and texting Derek, letting him know that the spell was done.

Stiles stopped and looked at his hands, feeling his heart race as the discolor of them made him feel even more uneasy than he already was. He looked like a goddamn corpse, “I’m just gonna nap, I think,” and he’d barely finished the words before he passed out.

* * *

What woke him a couple hours later wasn’t the pleasing tone of Peter’s voice, or anything similar. It was this sudden, horrendous pain in his body, sharper than anything he’d ever felt in his entire life, and that included breaking his arm when he was eight years old.

He turned over on his side, gasping as his eyes flew open and he curled in on himself, screaming as he grabbed his chest. His jaw was more than sore now, and clenching his teeth felt like pressing on bruises, breaths were coming in shorter, he couldn’t feel anything from his hips to his feet, and every joint above that was on fire with agony, throbbing nerves that reminded him of the sharp pains from a cavity covered in honey garlic sauce.

Peter had waited in the room with Stiles, propped against the bed as he sat on the floor, listening to each shallow intake of breath and wondering at a certain point if the breaths would just end up stopping all together. His eyelids became heavy after a while and he’d began dozing off when the shrill sound of his friend’s screams rang loud in the room.

The alpha moved quickly, taking up his previous seat just next to the boy and his brows furrowed in concern, “Stiles?” He asked frantically, leaning half over the younger man, “What’s wrong? I _need_ you to talk to me.”

It was obvious that he was in some sort of pain, so Peter slid his fingers just up under the back of his friend’s shirt to touch his skin, withdrawing what he could in order to get a coherent answer from Stiles.

Stiles turned onto his stomach, body twisting as he tried to respond, “Oh god,” He said as he shook and let out a sharp breath of air through his nose, “It’s such a Lord of the Rings cliche, but it fucking **burns**.” His mouth was dry, like desert dry and he was aware what dehydration felt like, but he wasn’t thirsty, or even hungry.

Stiles turned to Peter then, stopping to look at his hands and when he closed his fingers into a fist, he couldn’t even feel it. The skin around his nails was dark - black - compared to the gray shade of the rest of his body. He looked up into Peter’s eyes as he tried to keep calm, as the tears dripped down the side of his face and he gasped in pain as the beats of his heart started climbing.

Peter kept both of his hands on Stiles and pulled the boy closer, holding him in his arms as he continued to withdraw as much pain as he could handle. It wasn’t helping, though, that much was obvious.

“I’m trying...” He said shakily, “I’m trying to help, but it’s not-it’s not _working_ , Stiles.” He touched his friend’s cheek again, eyes wide and panicked, “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you **can** do,” Stiles said as he tentatively touched Peter’s wrist, “I’m dying. I can’t even feel anything below my waist. We...”

He took in as much breath as he could to talk, chest heavy as his heart raced, “We need to get the catalyst, meet back up with the pack. It’s almost time and we need to get ready.” Obviously sleeping wasn’t going to help, he still felt just as exhausted as he had when he’d first been laid down.

“I- I’ll call them and have them meet us here, Scott’s still outside,” Peter said, trying to think practically, “It would be easier for them to just come here, that way I won’t have to move you any more than necessary.”

He removed his fingers from his friend’s skin and pulled his phone out of his pocket, sending a mass text to the rest of the pack to get to his place as quick as possible. It was frightening, to watch someone he’d grown so close to practically die right in front of him, watching Stiles wither away to almost nothing.

It was taking everything inside of the younger man not to continue screaming in agony, but the pains wracking through everything he **could** feel were so overwhelming that he barely heard Peter’s words. Time was running out, he knew it, and he wasn’t really sure if this was reversible - it sure as Hell didn’t _feel_ like it was. With certain sicknesses there was always that ‘point of no return’, who was to say if this was any different?

Peter felt so warm next to him, like a sun or a heater, and Stiles mindlessly curled against him. Though his joints felt like they were on fire, his skin was cold, and it felt good to press against the werewolf, feeling Peter’s heat soak into him, “You’re gonna have to carry me everywhere, if I couldn’t walk before, I definitely can’t now,” He said, barely moving his jaw and lips because the sharp stings of pain in them were immense. He scratched at the patched up bite wound, brows narrowed because while it was itchy, it hurt to itch, which wasn’t even **slightly** fair.

Peter swallowed sickly and nodded, leaning to lay his phone on the night stand before smoothing his hand up and down Stiles’s back, “Okay,” He agreed softly, “I will.”

It was moot, though, because his friend was dying, and when he came back, reanimated and hungry for nothing but blood, he wouldn’t have to carry him - he’d probably have to kill him, or go to ridiculous lengths in order to keep him calm.

“I resisted the bite for so long,” Stiles said, voice low as he reveled in the feeling of Peter’s warm hand on his back, “And of the three things that can bite to turn you, two of them **die** to become what they are, and one of those two I can’t even stand. Zombies are like fifty times cooler than Vampires. I should’ve taken it when you offered it to me, then this never would’ve happened.”

“Yes, well, you always have been a stubborn little shit,” Peter snorted fondly as his eyes searched the younger man’s pale face, smile fading suddenly, “Just try to fight it, resist the urge to give in for as long as you can, okay? I know that’s asking a lot, but I need you to try... Try for the pack, for your dad... For me.”

Stiles was sure that if he had any color to his skin to keep it from being pale white, he probably would’ve blushed, but he didn’t feel his cheeks ‘heat’ at the words.

They’d never gotten the chance to talk about their own feelings, but he knew there was _something_ there, something that they’d been nurturing for a while. Peter was in the worst position. Sure, Stiles was the one dying, but he’d never want to be in the older man’s place. On top of watching Stiles decay, there was probably that disgusting death smell that Stiles had stuck in his mind after digging up Laura Hale’s upper half.

“I’m trying,” He assured the alpha, his grip on Peter’s wrist loosening as he moved to cover the older man's hand with his own.


	4. Chapter 4

With the pack gathered together, Stiles handed over the catalyst to Lydia. Since he couldn’t use it himself, it fell to her next, and he explained what to do when the time came. He leaned back in against Peter before the alpha set him down in the passenger’s side seat. He curled into himself, watching the older man silently as he drifted in and out.

Now that he couldn’t feel anything - even the ache in his jaw was just a dull, numb sensation - he actually felt **more** scared about the change, if that were possible.

Derek drove his black Camaro in front of them and suddenly Stiles wasn’t sure if they should’ve went as a whole. Would the Vampire feel outnumbered or intimidated? He wasn’t sure.

“You creeped me out when you first offered to bite me,” Stiles said, voice so low that Peter wouldn’t have heard it if he were human, “That’s the main reason I said ‘no’.”

“I’m glad you’ve gotten over being weirded out by my general creepiness,” Peter responded, wrapping his hands more firmly around the steering wheel as he drove, “But if that was only the _main_ reason, what were the others?” He asked, only glancing over at Stiles briefly. He needed to try to keep him talking, to try and keep him focused on something, at least until they got to the reserve.

Stiles shrugged, “A lot of my life, I’ve been out of control of my body,” He started, kind of musing aloud, “Panic attacks after my mom died, all the ADHD, I hate it."

"I hate being unable to control myself. Like every time the Kanima paralyzed me. Seeing Scott lose it just kinda freaked me out. I didn’t wanna be a Werewolf, even though I like them, because I have a hard time controlling myself already. That, and I’m not nearly as **morally grounded** as Scott is. I can be an ass, I can be a jerk. I didn’t just _want_ the bite, I wanted it from _you_ , and that kinda scared me, so I said ‘no’.”

“I can understand being hesitant, scared of something you want, terrified that you wouldn’t have much control,” Peter mumbled and continued to follow Derek, “But what I don’t understand, is why you’d want it specifically from me. A bite from any alpha would be enough to turn you, Derek could have done it just as easily. So, why me?”

“You’re not really being an ass and trying to boost your ego while I’m on my death bed, are you?” Stiles glared at Peter suddenly, “I may not be able to feel anything in my body, but I’ll beat the shit out of you for pressing bruises, I’m not kidding. You _know_ why. You don’t need me to **tell** you why, you already know.”

“I do?” Peter asked incredulously, suddenly feeling like he’d been left out on a big secret, eyes widened as the car hugged the curves of the road.

There was only one reason the alpha could think of, only one reason why Stiles would even want the bite from him specifically - if he **had** taken it - but the reasoning he’d found was improbable. Stiles had always been blunt and to the point, so if the younger man had had feelings for him in any way, he would’ve said something, surely.

It had taken him a little while to actually realize that the _something more_ he felt for Stiles wasn’t something strictly platonic, but the likelihood of the younger man actually feeling the same in return was slim to none.

“You’re the adult,” Stiles stated, raising his brows, or he thought he did, “Aren’t you suppose to know this shit before I do?”

He turned onto his back more, still looking at Peter and smiling weakly, “I never said anything more about it because I figured you either knew and didn’t care, or you knew and **did** , and that was just... That. And this is really the worst time to even be talking about it. I’m gonna die, and I’m never gonna feel like this again. I probably won’t ever feel _anything_ again, so all that time getting to know one another really doesn’t amount to anything but pain in the end.”

“Me being the adult has absolutely no bearing on matters of the heart, even adults can be naive and blind, Stiles,” Peter said, clenching his jaw over all of the wasted years, all of the wasted time they could’ve been... _together_ \- even if being with Stiles wasn’t something he realized he wanted until recently.

“When have you ever not elaborated on something, you could’ve... You could’ve said something for fuck’s sake.” It was pointless to get angry, to blame anything on Stiles, because as the younger man had so eloquently pointed out, he was going to die.

“Never mind,” The alpha said, tone a little more softer this time as he brought the car to a stop just behind his nephew, “You’re right, it's not a good time to talk about it.”

Stiles smiled weakly and reached out for Peter’s hand, taking his fingers and squeezing them in his palm, “I liked it being like that. Just being simple and not complicated. Not making you feel like you **needed** to be more.”

Moving his arms felt like he was lifting weights, but he ignored it, “I didn’t need it to be _more_ to enjoy you and your company.”

“Maybe not,” Peter swallowed down the knot rising in his throat as he brought the younger man’s knuckles to his lips, kissing them chastely before putting his hand back down, “But... _More_ wouldn’t have been quite so bad, either.” He smiled sadly at Stiles and turned the car off, brows furrowing suddenly at the vast amounts of heart beats he could hear nearby.

Stiles couldn’t really **taste** anything in his mouth, and it’d felt dry for hours now, but he didn’t miss the subtle flavor of bittersweet as it washed over, and he looked at his friend as Peter’s expression changed, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Derek climbed out of the driver’s side of the black Camaro, turning and moving to his uncle’s car as the rest of the group moved in around them, closing in for protection.

He didn’t want to interrupt their ‘heartening moment’, but things needed to happen, so he spoke to Peter, knowing the other alpha would hear him, regardless of the door and window still being closed, “Keep him close, keep him safe. I don’t know what’s going on, but this feels like a trap.”

Peter nodded numbly and ignored Stiles’s question as he got out of the car, looking pointedly at Derek, “Be careful,” He said, frowning at his nephew before moving around to the younger man’s side of the car. He opened the door and crouched down next to him, all senses on high alert in case something happened, because Derek was right, it **did** feel kind of like a trap.

“Don’t worry about it,” The alpha said finally, resting his hand on the younger man’s knee, “Just focus on yourself, try to stay awake. We’re close.”

Stiles frowned as Derek walked away and he looked up at Peter, “I’m trying,” He didn’t like the idea of rendering one of the strongest members of their pack completely useless, but they didn’t really have a choice.

He pressed his cheek to the alpha’s shirt, feeling the heat of Peter’s body soak into him, free hand reaching up to smooth over it as he breathed in. He couldn’t smell any more, but he got that phantom scent from his memory, knowing Peter’s cologne better than his own.

* * *

Roderick wasn’t necessarily thrilled that the pack alpha had brought along so much of said pack, because it’d likely interfere with his plans somehow, but he stalked out from the darkness. The walking blood bags followed, stumbling numbly behind him and he stopped a good ten feet away from the werewolves.

“I’m assuming you have what I’ve asked for?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the alpha.

“We do,” Derek said at once, being vague about _who_ amongst them actually **had** the key, and he kept his arms at his sides, body poised, “And you said you’d give us the cure to your bite, in turn for it. I’m assuming you have that.” He felt his right hand tighten into a fist as he looked over the people behind Roderick, and he met a certain pair of eyes that made him terrifyingly uneasy.

“I do,” Roderick lied, smirking because there was no way for the werewolf to tell, “However, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to hand it over until you give me the key.”

The vampire stepped closer and extended his hand, raising his brows expectantly, “And if you think of doing anything stupid, I’ll make sure you won’t find the cure.”

Derek shook his head, “The key seems important to you, Stiles obviously isn’t, why would **you** risk losing the opportunity to obtain it, by not giving **us** the cure first? He’s just a human, which you-” He looked to the humans behind the Vampire, “Obviously think lesser of. Give us the cure, and we’ll give you the key.”

Stiles’s hand tightened on Peter’s shirt as he tried to listen in on the unintelligible mutters from afar. Sound was fading suddenly and he panicked for a moment, looking up to the alpha holding him, “Peter,” He said, barely forming the words with his numb lips before everything faded out and his body went limp in the older man’s arms.

“Stiles?” Peter looked down at him as the hand fell from his chest and he felt his own heart beginning to hammer erratically, reaching up to touch the younger man’s cheek - he was as cold as ice and his head dropped back, “Come on, Stiles, wake up."

"You’re going to be okay, you have to be okay, just wake up,” Peter shook the boy’s shoulder a little, trying to get him to open his eyes, but his head just lolled without restraint. The younger man’s heartbeat was becoming more faint, slowing down and Peter didn’t know what to do. He needed the cure.

“I don’t really think you’re in any situation to be negotiating, do you?” Roderick asked, looking over Derek’s shoulder to where the boy was sitting passed out in the car, “It doesn’t seem like you have much time left, you should probably just give me the key before the boy dies.”

Derek didn’t look back, he could hear his uncle’s frantic concern, Stiles’s heart beats slowing even more and he reached into his pocket, pulling out the solid container holding the key and offered it at once. He didn’t really have a choice. They didn’t know what the thing did, but Stiles’s life wasn’t worth the risk, and he needed the cure **now** , “You have it, now, hold up your end of the deal.”

Roderick took the key out of the container and looked down at it, smile widening as his fangs elongated, “Well, you see, we have a small problem,” He said, tucking the key into his pocket before he met the alpha’s eyes, “There actually is no cure, I’m afraid your friend is going to die and join my ranks, regardless.”

He chuckled dryly, “I do apologize, I needed the leverage. And you **dogs**... You’re just so damn gullible. It was too easy, really.”

Peter listened to the vampire intently and felt himself growl, suddenly looking back at Stiles, staying close as his friend’s heart steadily became more faint.

Derek’s brows dropped the more the Vampire spoke and his eyes glowed red, his own teeth sharpening as he roared and changed, body shaking out as the fur sprouted from his skin, his muscle shirt tightening until it snapped and he threw his jacket off before he broke through it as well. He moved the moment he was transformed completely, lunging forward to attack the Vampire.

Lydia took the catalyst from her small purse and threw it down on the ground beside the Vampire. Though it had been as heavy and as sturdy as a large crystal, it shattered like glass, and a thin film of fog spread outward for a moment before fizzling.

Roderick chuckled again and dodged the alpha entirely, moving so fast that the werewolves would never really ever be able to catch him.

“Shame for you, that you’ll be losing such a valuable member of your pack,” The vampire said, dodging not only the alpha at this point, but a few of his pups as well, “It is, however, good for me. I can’t wait until he wakes up, that’s when things will get really interesting.”

Peter pulled Stiles’s limp body from the car - still just as delicate with him as he’d been before - and laid him down, cradling his head in his lap as he watched his friend’s face. It was pointless to hang onto the faint, barely there thumps of his heart, knowing they’d give out eventually, but he couldn’t stop from doing so.

The humans behind the Vampire gasped, but didn’t move otherwise, and Derek turned, roaring again as he snapped his jaws after Roderick. They **couldn’t** lose Stiles, even after this - he wouldn’t be the same, but he’d still be... _Something -_ he had to count on that. Whatever complications arose, they’d handle it.

The rest of the pack spread out, changing and taking up stances to try and keep the Vampire contained, but he moved too fast for any of them, Scott took up his own place before Peter and Stiles, even though Roderick wouldn’t likely come after them again.

“He’s going to be absolutely starving when he comes to,” Roderick teased, still smiling as he wore the pack down, zigzagging and weaving through trees, “It’s probably a good thing I brought him a little snack.”

Scott looked back over his shoulder at his friend’s lifeless looking body and frowned, slowly meeting Peter’s eyes as he shook his head, “This isn’t good, dude, we have to do something.” He looked back at the rest of the pack, watching the blur of the vampire moving, wincing as Jackson and Isaac collided into one another.

Derek turned swiftly, jaws clamping down on the Vampire’s arm, but he let go nearly at once, not just because it was like trying to bite into metal, but because it was cold - the creature tasted like rotted flesh and his stomach reeled in protest.

Allison backed up, staying close to Peter and Stiles as she loaded up her bow, she couldn’t **really** aim for something that was just a blur to her eyes, but she tried anticipating directions, coming close a few times, and even managing to nick Roderick’s jacket once, “He’s just toying with us now, and those people... He’s just setting them up as... Some kind of _bait_ for Stiles.”

“You’re right,” Peter said, looking up at Allison as he held Stiles close, “I’ll do what I can to restrain him, but if he’s anywhere near as fast as his sire, we’ll probably be screwed.” If he held him down from the get-go, perhaps they’d have some sort of fighting chance.

The alpha frowned as he listened to Stiles’s heart, seconds between each one until they stopped all together and he clenched his jaws together painfully, hands tightening in the boy’s shirt.

“You might wanna change all together, while you can,” Boyd voiced to Peter as he glanced at Stiles’s body on the ground.

Derek shook his head and swiped upwards after the Vampire, catching the tail end of his jacket. He stopped finally, roaring at the rest of the pack to still as well.

They were only getting worn down, and if Stiles was about to come back, in some kind of blood rage, they needed what little energy they had left to keep the humans safe. He glared after Roderick, panting and licking his teeth as he growled.

Peter nodded subtly and shifted, chest heaving with anticipation as he waited for the younger man to open his eyes. He didn’t want to harm Stiles, but he had a feeling that he was likely the only one in the pack who **would** hurt him, especially if it meant stopping him from killing a group of people. It wouldn’t necessarily be just to save their lives, either, because he knew Stiles, and he knew that if the younger man killed **anyone** , he’d probably never recover from the guilt.

The werewolves stepped back tentatively, looking to Stiles with wide, anticipating eyes and Derek shifted to his beta form, “Peter, you should move him, take him from here–”

“Like it would work,” Jackson said, shaking his head, “If he’s fast enough, moving him won’t do anything, we have to **stop** him before he starts - stake him in the heart or something, isn’t that what you do to Vampires?”

Derek turned and roared at Jackson, satisfied when the beta backed down and cowered, “ **Don’t** even think about **trying** to stake him,” He said, voice menacing.

Peter glared at Jackson and then looked at Derek, taking his nephew’s advice as he slung the lifeless body of the younger man over his shoulder. He moved as quickly as he could, trying to get Stiles as far away as possible so that when he woke up, perhaps he wouldn’t smell the humans gathered up for him.

Scott scratched the back of his head and glanced at Derek, “I should go, too. I mean, he’s my best friend and we don’t know if Peter’s gonna need any help or not. We don’t know how strong he’s gonna be.”

Derek nodded, watching after his uncle, “Go,” He growled as Allison started to follow, “Not you, you’re **human**.”

Allison stopped and looked at Scott sadly, but she stayed back, “Be careful. He may be Stiles... But he won’t be,” She readied herself, just in case.

“You put all the human’s lives at risk,” Derek said as he watched the Vampire, “And now you’ve outed **both** of our kinds to over **thirty** people. Why would you do such a thing for that key? How did you even _find_ us in the first place?”

Roderick let his gaze linger on the humans, a perpetual smirk plastered to his face as he watched some of them tremble, “If you really must know,” He said, turning to look at the alpha, “I’ve come a very long way from home, following that boy and your other alpha, looking specifically for that key. If only you knew what it was for, what it could _do_ , you’d understand my desperation.”

“I doubt it,” Derek responded back, “Nothing is worth the lives of so many innocent people. And you didn’t have to **kill** one of our own. You’re not getting out of here, undead or otherwise,” He promised the Vampire, turning his head as he listened out to Peter and Scott.

Roderick’s eyes darkened considerably as he stared at the alpha, the corner of his mouth still twisted up menacingly, “I suppose we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”

Peter stopped running when he felt the younger man’s body stir, one of Stiles's hands sliding down along his back. He sat Stiles against the stump of a tree and pushed him against it by his shoulders to keep him still. The alpha looked over his shoulder at Scott with furrowed brows, nodding knowingly and willing the beta to be prepared.

Stiles worked his throat, brows tightening together as he felt so hungry, so starved and he opened his eyes, head lulling forward for a moment before looking up and stopping on Peter’s face. He stared, unblinking, feeling the heat of the hands on him like burning embers and he could hear, beyond that, far enough away, the presence of racing hearts, blood coursing through bodies and he tried to swallow.


	5. Chapter 5

“Stiles,” Peter said tentatively, keeping his hands firmly on the younger man’s shoulders as he worried over the distracted expression on his friend’s face, “Listen to me, you’re going to be okay, just don’t do anything rash. Stay put and don’t fight, okay?”

“Yeah, man, we don’t wanna have to hurt you,” Scott chimed in, looking at Stiles with concern.

Stiles’s eyes changed, pooling black, the irises becoming crimson red as his fangs elongated and the blood was so loud, filling his ears. It was the only thing he could concentrate on, all other sounds blurring out and he growled, lunging forward and biting Peter’s neck, sinking his teeth in for a moment before shoving him out of the way and racing for the human closest to him.

Allison gasped, “He’s coming-” She barely managed the words before Stiles’s arms wrapped around her, squeezing her body tightly, bones crunching under his strength as his teeth found her throat.

Peter yelled out in pain and it actually took him a moment to gather himself enough to fully get to his feet once more, one hand clutched over the wound as he watched Scott take off at a breakneck speed, yelling for Allison.

He forced himself to move, running as quickly as he could. The motions were thoughtless and he acted instinctively, grabbing the young vampire as Stiles had wrapped himself around Allison like an Anaconda, sucking at her neck and Peter had to break his jaw in order to remove his fangs, pulling Stiles off of Allison and snapping his arms behind the boy’s back, wincing when he heard the bones crunch.

Scott skidded to a stop and caught Allison just before she hit the ground, his eyes flashing bright amber and he growled at Stiles as he held his girlfriend carefully. Her body was tender and broken, and he covered her neck wound with one hand, trying to take in as much of her pain as she whimpered weakly before passing out, "Allison!"

Stiles shouted in frustration, blood on his lips as his body bucked to try and get free and the humans screaming in fear only made him hunger for them more, needing the blood, aching for it.

Derek moved as well, joining Peter’s side before turning back to his pack, “Take the humans from here, **now** ,” He changed into his alpha form once again, pressing his paws to Stiles’s shoulders but the newborn Vampire was strong, eyes wild as he struggled against them.

Peter kept Stiles’s arms pinned behind his back as he leaned in to whisper in his friend’s ear, “I’m sorry, just calm down. I don’t want to have to hurt you any more.” He tried keeping his grip on Stiles as the younger man thrashed about, acting out like a caged animal with rabies. Even the fact that Derek was helping restrain him didn’t seem to matter, because he was too strong.

Stiles’s arms finally healed and he broke the alpha's grasp on them, reaching up, nails sharp as he stabbed his claws into Derek’s chest, throwing him off and doing the same to Peter, standing again and moving to the crowd of people that were starting to run away.

He snatched one, a younger man, ripping his head back and drinking as fast as he could, mouth filling with blood as he growled and backed away, throwing the man down before he moved to the next.

“Stop him!” Derek commanded the rest of the pack, standing up as he winced at his own wounds, but tried to advance as well.

Peter coughed and grimaced at the pain radiating in his chest, forcing himself to his feet as he staggered forward. If he and Derek had a difficult time restraining Stiles, two or three of the pack wouldn’t be able to do so, either. He gestured to the man on the ground and looked at Lydia, “Check his vitals, stay there, don’t move.”

Boyd and Isaac circled Stiles, watching him tentatively and moving in before he had a chance to grab someone else. Isaac wrapped his arms around Stiles’s upper body as Boyd grabbed the bottom, knocking their friend to the ground in an attempt to keep him still.

Stiles turned, blood drizzling down his front as he shoved his claws into Isaac’s stomach and pulled away, grabbing Boyd and biting him. The werewolf’s blood didn’t sate him, but he’d do anything to stop them from attacking him in groups. He wiped his mouth, licking his blood from the back of his hand as he snatched up the next woman, teeth sinking in again as he growled around the bite.

Sheriff Stilinski watched in horror, staring as his son became some kind of creature he’d never imagined existed. Stiles’s skin was pale, eyes black, and he didn’t move in to stop him for fear of putting the other men trying to stop him at risk, if he, himself, became a liability.

Peter glanced amidst the group of humans and growled when he noticed Stiles’s father. Forcing himself forward, the alpha growled more threateningly as he pulled Stiles from the woman, his chest to the younger man’s back as he reached around and gripped his throat tightly, claws sinking in as a warning.

“Stiles, you need to stop and look at what you’re doing!” Peter jerked the smaller man’s head towards where his father was, forcing him to look, “You’re killing people and if you don’t stop, you’re going to kill your own father.”

Stiles stared in confusion for a moment, feeling the claws on his skin and he stopped struggling against Peter. He swallowed the blood still in his mouth, licked his teeth and watched the sheriff as his fangs retracted, “Dad?” He couldn’t fit together what the man was _doing_ there. Derek didn’t bring him, so how did he end up amongst the humans?

Stiles saw the look of terror and disgust in his father’s eyes and he watched him turn away to help the woman Stiles had just drank from.

Peter practically sighed in relief when he felt Stiles stop fighting him. He kept his claws sunk into the younger man’s throat, though, just in case. The alpha turned Stiles around and stared at him sadly, “Yes, your dad. Now, are you going to cooperate or am I going to have to break your legs?” He didn’t particularly want to, but he’d do whatever needed to be done in order to restrain his friend.

“We need to get you out of here before you harm anyone else,” The alpha retracted his claws, but his muscles were tense and ready just in case Stiles tried to make a run for it, “The pack can gather everyone else up and get them home safely. It would probably be best if you didn’t talk to your father right now, I think he’s going to need some space.”

Stiles nodded, it was hard to think clearly through the sound of so many people, their hearts pumping blood through their veins, their scared breaths, the smell of panic and fear in the air. He nodded again though, trusting Peter and trying to keep himself from lashing out again.

“Get me out of here,” He said, looking into the alpha’s eyes, “Please, Peter, before I...” He was going to say ‘kill someone’, but he didn’t know if he already had, “Before I lose control again.”

Derek watched the two warily and motioned to the pack, joining them to take care of the humans Stiles had bitten into. The last woman was done, he knew that just from looking at her, throat ripped to pieces, and he met Peter’s eyes, “Go on.”

Peter nodded at his nephew and wrapped his arm around Stiles’s shoulder before walking him to the car, knowing the pack would clean everything up, make it look like nothing had happened. The witnesses likely wouldn’t talk, they’d be too afraid to tell someone what they saw in fear of something bad happening to them. It was kind of tragic, really, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat thankful.

The alpha all but pushed Stiles into the passenger side seat before moving around to his side, peeling out from where he’d been parked.

Stiles sat in the passenger’s side seat, unblinking, unmoving, staring down at his hands as everything that had happened started sinking in. He reached up with his right hand, finally, and started licking the blood from his claws and his fingers. He was, or felt, full - he supposed that was the ‘term’ for it, though he wasn’t sure - but the smell of it was heavy in the car. And, really, he had nothing better to do.

The drive was mostly quiet and full of concerned glances on Peter’s behalf, but every time he started to open his mouth to say something to Stiles, the words seemed to die on his tongue. Nothing he said would make his friend feel better, not that he even particularly seemed to be phased by any of it in the first place, but still.

He parked the car just in front of his house and shot the younger man a firm look, as if to say ‘stay still, don’t move’ before climbing out of the car. The alpha walked around and opened Stiles’s door, pulled him out and led him to his house. Chances were he’d probably have to put his basement to good use, because he wasn’t really sure how far he could trust Stiles.

Stiles didn’t really like being treated like some kind of convict, or like he was going to jump at any minute. Granted, he didn’t really trust himself, either, he still didn’t like Peter treating him so coldly. He stayed silent though, staring down at the blood on the front of his shirt. He probably looked freaky, red all around his mouth and down his throat, and none of it was his own blood - he didn’t **have** blood. Some of it was Allison’s.

He looked at the alpha then, “What are we gonna do when I get hungry again?”

“I’ll figure something out, don’t worry about it,” Peter said as he ushered Stiles into the house, finally letting go of him long enough to lock the front door. He turned to him then and grimaced as he fully took in the younger man’s appearance, skin as white as snow, blood caked all along his mouth, chin and jaws, clothes stained with it all.

The alpha rested his hand on Stiles’s back and gestured towards the bathroom, “Come on, we need to get you cleaned up.”

The last time Stiles was in Peter’s bathroom, he’d thrown up the happy meals he’d had from lunch. He’d been so cold and so sick that he was starting to really worry. Now Stiles couldn’t feel a thing. There was no heaviness of sick, no cold, there wasn’t anything left to show that he was human - because he wasn’t. He didn’t need to breathe, he didn’t need to blink, or swallow the build of saliva in his mouth. The only thing he could taste was blood.

He pulled off his shirt and started stepping out of his shoes, “I’m sorry I bit you.”

“It’s fine,” Peter dismissed it almost immediately and grabbed Stiles a towel and a washcloth, setting both on the counter, “If I remember correctly, you promised me that you were going to bite me, anyways.”

The alpha frowned, eyes falling down over the pale expanse of skin and he cleared his throat, “I’ll get you something clean to wear, you can go ahead and get in the shower if you want.” Peter turned on his heels - leaving the bathroom door open - and walked into his bedroom to pilfer through his drawers.

Stiles looked at the mirror, staring over his reflection for a moment before he pushed down his jeans and boxers and stopped as he looked down at the swollen erection in confusion. If he was human, he probably would’ve blushed furiously, but, as it was, he just moved into the shower and closed the curtain, quickly washing the blood from his hands and arms.

Peter grabbed a soft pair of sweat pants and one of his old long-sleeved henleys before stalking back into the bathroom, glancing at the shower curtain idly before laying the clothes down with the towel. He stepped back out of the bathroom to give Stiles some privacy, but slouched against the wall just next to the door.

Stiles kept the shower short and to the point, and when the erection didn’t falter for a second, he wasn’t really sure whether he should try to dispose of it, or try to take care of it. He didn’t _feel_ aroused in the slightest, and the thing was actually starting to make him kind of nervous. So he chose to ignore it, climbing out and turning off the water.

He dressed and tucked himself away the best he could, considering Peter had supplied the most revealing thing to do with **pants**. He moved to the door and leaned against the frame to look at Peter, “Now what do we do?”

Peter looked up from his position on the floor, grunting as he stood and he shrugged, “Next time you’re hungry, you’re going to feed off of me. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll figure something else out.”

He couldn’t help but noticed the way the sweat pants were tenting outward from Stiles’s groin, but he kept his eyes on the younger man’s, “You’re dead, now, so I’m assuming you don’t need sleep, and that’s bound to become an issue, because I do.”

“I fucking hate Vampires,” Stiles said, narrowing his brows, “I don’t think I can feed on you, though. I mean, the images are kinda fuzzy, but I know I didn’t feel satisfied from yours or Boyd’s blood, so it’s gonna be a problem. We’re gonna have to think of something before I become rabid with it again. I can’t... I can’t go through that again.”

“I’ll think of something. If there's one thing I am, it’s resourceful,” Peter grinned sadly and exhaled, “In the meantime, you realize I’m going to have to chain you down while I sleep, right? I can’t risk it, you know I don’t want to.”

Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes, “You are seriously the kinkiest asshole I know. And I’m not even sure how you think a set of chains is going to keep **me** at bay. I mean, good luck trying, I wish you the best. But if **you** couldn’t hold me back, how is anything else in the world gonna do the trick?”

“Great, it would appear that sleep deprivation is in my future, then,” Peter all but glared at Stiles and turned to walk away, heading towards the living room to sit down on the couch, “At least until you learn how to control yourself.”

“I’m fine right **now** ,” Stiles said as he followed after Peter, “Why not take the moment while you have it? I won’t go anywhere, I’m fine. Well, I’m... Not really fine. I have like half inch long fangs and no heart beat, and I think I now know why all Vampires can have sex in the movies and shows and stuff, but I’m okay for the moment. You can sleep. I’m... Well aware of myself, and in complete control.”

“And what happens if you lose that control while I’m passed out, Stiles?” Peter asked, staring intently at the younger man, “You could sneak out and murder half the town, I’m not that naive. I’ll stay awake, because if that were to happen, Derek would probably kill me... And then kill you.”

Stiles sat on the couch, drawing his knees up close, “So, if you’re not sleeping, then what are we doing? Because I’m probably not gonna... You know... Sleep, at all. I don’t wanna hurt anyone, but I can’t... I don’t know what to do to fix it, I-stealing from hospitals and stuff is just as bad, and we don’t even know if that would work, or if it needs to be 98.6 from the vein. We need to think of something, and have it ready, before I start to get hungry again.”

“Well, for one, you can start by not being so impatient and let me think,” Peter mused aloud, side-glancing the younger man with raised brows, “Of course that also involves being quiet for more than a nanosecond, something I’m not entirely sure you’re capable of.” He looked away then and furrowed his brows, trying to think of a way to keep Stiles sated and under control.

Without saying anything else, he leaned forward and grabbed his laptop from the coffee table, turning more towards Stiles so that he couldn’t see the screen or see what he was doing.

Stiles kept his response to himself, closing his mouth and looking down at his forearms as he waited. He could think of **maybe** a few ways on his own already, but they’d put people at risk regardless.

Peter was probably the only member in the pack that wouldn’t have **too** much of a problem doing that, but Stiles still did, even though he was the one that needed the sustenance. He became so still as he kept to himself, not needing to breathe, or blink, or fidget, completely unmoving as he listened to the older man’s presence by him.

Peter used Google mercilessly and managed to stumble upon some sort of forum, reading some of the postings to himself. It didn’t seem completely bizarre that there were actually people who got off on the idea of letting a vampire drink from them, some of them even claimed to have done it before. The entire thing was risky, but it’s not like he’d just set Stiles loose on the humans, he’d be there to watch and monitor, to keep his friend in check.

He glanced up at Stiles briefly and then sent one of the online users a message, “I do believe I’ve found a solution to our problem, or your problem, rather.”

Stiles smiled at the Freudian slip and turned to look at Peter, watching him for a second and nodding, “As long as you don’t plan on stealing blood from people that need it. What’ve you got in mind?”

Peter grinned to himself when the woman responded, silently hashing out the details with the human before closing the laptop and looking at Stiles, “You’ll find out in the morning, that’s when your breakfast should be here.” Derek would probably wring his neck if he knew that he was essentially threatening someone’s life, but he was confident in himself and his capabilities in keeping his friend in control.

Stiles eyed the older man suspiciously, but sat back and nodded again. Peter wouldn’t hurt him, not ever - not permanently at least - he trusted the alpha with his life, or, well, now he trusted him with his... Existence? “You think you can keep it up for eternity?” He asked, growing out his claws and looking at them, “I’m immortal now. I’m gonna end up slipping up again, at some point, aren’t I?”

“I can help you for as long as I’m alive,” Peter offered and glanced down at Stiles’s claws as well, “And if you learn restraint and control while I’m still here, you should be fine after I’m gone. Accidents will happen, though, you’re bound to slip up every once in a while.”

Stiles frowned at the comment, and though he couldn’t really **feel** anything, he recognized disappointment and fear still, and he didn’t like the idea of Peter talking about _passing_.

He didn’t really know what the life span of a werewolf was, but he should probably find out, “Are you not immortal?”

Peter chuckled at the question and shook his head minutely, pulling his right leg up onto his left thigh, “No, unfortunately. Granted, werewolves live longer than humans, but we all pass eventually.” His smile faltered a little bit when he noticed the concerned frown on his friend’s face, “But I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

“If I’m immortal and you’re not, ‘not any time soon’ is a **lot** sooner than you think it is,” Stiles said at once and he looked away, feeling suddenly heavy.

If he could’ve cried, he knew he would’ve then, but he couldn’t feel the satisfaction of wetness on his lashes, all he could feel was emptiness. His dad would be gone in less than twenty to thirty years. Peter not too far after, and Stiles didn’t plan to be an empty shell waiting at the end of time, no longer knowing those blue eyes and that trickster smile.

Forgetting Scott and Lydia, Derek and Isaac, the rest of his pack, probably accompanied by the man that turned him in the first place. That wasn’t going to be him. He’d find away, the moment Peter’s heart stopped, Stiles would stake himself.

“Stiles,” Peter murmured softly and scooted closer on the couch, reaching out to touch the younger man’s chin with his fingers and turning his face back towards him, “‘Not anytime soon’ means I’ll be around until I’m about a hundred and thirty. It’s more than a lifetime and it’s definitely more than most people get. It’s not something to be sad over, living longer than that is the real tragedy.”

He pulled his hand away tentatively, eyes searching his friend’s face, “Don’t worry about it, you should be worrying more over the fact that Scott probably hates you right now. You almost killed Allison.”

“I’m trying **not** to think about that,” Stiles took Peter’s hand back between his own, still feeling the burn of the older man’s touch on his face, “Every time I do, I just feel so guilty. And my dad... He didn’t even know about werewolves, let alone Vampires and seeing me tear through people. I probably killed all of the ones I got my hands on, I can’t even imagine the state that Allison’s in. Scott has every right to hate me."

"I’m still thinking like **me** , Peter, that hasn’t changed. I’m not sad that you’ll die at some point, I’m pissed that **I** won’t follow in any natural way. I’ll never just expire.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, and the apology was for more than just one thing in general. He was sorry that he hadn’t been able to stop Roderick in time, sorry for being so blunt about what Stiles had done and making him feel guilty about it, sorry that he’d leave the earth long before the younger man.

Stiles looked Peter in the eyes and stared at him firmly then, “Don’t be. I’m not **entirely** immortal either, I _can_ die. I don’t plan on being alive much longer than you,” He pressed his cold lips to the alpha’s warm skin and closed his eyes. It was weird, the lack of relief from closing them, how he could just **choose** to do it, and not be forced to when he needed to blink.

Peter felt goose bumps rise all over his skin when he felt the cold press of Stiles’s lips, a stark contrast to his own body temperature, like ice and fire. “I don’t need to tell you how ridiculous you’re being by saying that,” The alpha murmured, eyes slightly transfixed on where his friend was kissing his skin, “But if I’m gone, it’s not like I’ll be able to stop you. Just know that I don’t exactly approve.”

“You’re gonna have to approve, because as you said, ‘It’s more than a lifetime and it’s definitely more than most people get’,” Stiles pulled back and stared at the alpha once more, “I died today. I’m dead. I’m not human any more. Anything after today is more than I should’ve lived. And after the next fifty years, sixty years, it’s more than I **could’ve** ever lived, as a human. I won’t be killing myself, or ending my life, both of those opportunities have passed. I’ll just be... At rest."

"You’re gonna fault me for wanting that after you die? After I lose the last thing I have left? You’re actually gonna guilt me for what you know is gonna follow?”

“I’m not guilting you for anything, Stiles,” Peter argued, shaking his head, “I don’t approve of a world without you in it, living or dead. It’s as simple as that.” He could understand wanting to be at rest, but he didn’t like the idea of Stiles ceasing to exist.

Stiles rolled his eyes in annoyance, “You think **that’s** fair? You think **I** wanna be in a world without **you**? Well, I don’t. It goes both ways. And on the same line of not approving of worlds with and without things, you think I wanna be in a world where I’m a fucking leechy blood-sucking Vampire? I could just kill myself now and be done with it. I **should** be dead - as in no longer able to talk, or feel, or walk around. Things like me shouldn’t exist."

"But I’m here. I’m miserable, I’m a murderer, and I don’t know what my dad even thinks I am, or if he’ll ever look at me the same way again. But I’m not... I haven’t even thought to kill myself. Not now, not yet, not until you’re gone - because **that’s** the world that I don’t wanna be in.”

Peter sighed at Stiles’s stubbornness, “Your father is just likely going to need some time, what he witnessed you do was shocking. It’ll take a while, but he’ll come around when he realizes you don’t want to kill him.”

He grabbed his friend’s hand with his own, “You don’t **have** to be miserable, it doesn’t always have to be all bad.”

“I guess our outlooks on things still haven’t changed,” Stiles mused aloud, “You’re still an optimist about bad things, and I’m still dwelling on the more morbid outcomes.”

Peter’s hand made Stiles feel like he was touching scalding embers from a fire, and he laced their fingers together, feeling the pulsing of blood through Peter’s veins, “I don’t see how anything following is ever going to be ‘good’.”

Peter smoothed his thumb over Stiles’s cool skin and lifted their hands as a reference, “This doesn’t really seem quite so bad, perhaps you just need to see things from my point of view more often.”

Stiles raised a brow and stared pointedly at the alpha, “Okay, what point of view is that, exactly?”

He knew they’d been talking about their feelings before he’d died, but he wasn’t really sure that was what Peter was even talking about now. Would them being _anything_ more be counted as necrophilia? Likely. He could remember all the hate the Twilight books got for that - the choice between necrophilia and bestiality. And really, this was kind of both.

Stiles had already thought _plenty_ on the latter, but he’d never really given much thought to having sex with corpses... Or being the corpse that someone was having sex with.

“Being more **optimistic** is what I was getting at,” Peter stared back at Stiles, pulling the younger man’s hand to his lap to cradle the other side with his free hand, “If you look for it hard enough, there’s always a glimmer of something good... Even in the most dire of situations.”

“Okay Dumbledore,” Stiles shifted closer, kind of waiting for his hand to catch on fire, “I get it. I’m being emo and morose, I’ll stop. It’s hard not to, when you’re dead. And I think we’ve kicked that horse to death. So, on a side note, my last food was happy meals. My stomach didn’t really have a chance to dissect it, but my teeth and tongue did, so it totally counts. And that’s... Pretty much the last thing I’ll ever taste, considering I can’t even taste blood now.”

“Tragic, really, that you’ll never even really know what I taste like,” Peter said passively, hand smoothing up and down Stiles’s forearm, side-glancing the younger man with the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Stiles shrugged, “It goes both ways, kinda. I mean, you could still taste me... I’d just taste like... A cold corpse, I imagine.” He didn’t know how they got so easily onto tracks about tastes, and he wasn’t sure _what_ tastes they were talking about, because Stiles wasn’t thinking of Peter’s mouth.

“There are ways to test that theory,” Peter turned more towards Stiles, pulling his leg up onto the couch as he sat facing the younger man, reaching up slowly to cup his cheek. He kind of felt like he was moving too quickly, especially considering they only really found out about their feelings for one another hours before.

Brushing the corner of his friend’s mouth with his thumb, the alpha moved in tentatively and pressed his lips to Stiles’s, eyes shutting as he fought a shiver at how cold the younger man was.

“Peter,” Stiles started to complain, “Don’t,” He said, even as he wanted to lean in, for just a second as Peter’s lips burned his and then he was pulling back completely, moving until his spine hit the arm of the couch and he was away from the alpha. His eyes were black and red again, dark veins around them as he stared at Peter, brows tightened together as he wiped his mouth and then looked away.

Peter practically gaped when Stiles pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion and his eyes widened when the younger man’s eyes darkened. He touched his mouth briefly and nodded before moving back as well, sliding clear back to his end of the couch.

“I’m sorry,” He said, staring blankly at his lap, “I just thought...” He sighed, “I don’t know what I thought, never mind.”

“After everything that’s happened today, why would you **actually** wanna do _that_? Or think of it at all?” Stiles shook his head, “Trust me, that’s like the last thing on my mind right now. When I kiss you, I want... I wanna be warm, I wanna be alive. Not like this, never like this, oh my god.”

He wiped his lips again, “ _Why would you even want to_?”

Peter looked up at Stiles and frowned, “Because you’re still you, heartbeat or not, and if you don’t want to kiss me until you’re warm or alive... I really hate to break it to you, but it’ll never happen.” He wanted more than anything to just get up and go to a different room, but he couldn’t, because he had to keep an eye on his friend.

Stiles had a hard time accepting the fact that Peter could be attracted to him now, still. Himself, he got - because he was still in love with a human being - but Peter was okay with him being what he was now. He tried to put himself in the older man’s place, but he didn’t know how he would’ve reacted to Peter being a Vampire.

He **did** want to be warm and alive, but the werewolf was right, there was no takesies-backsies on dying, unless you were Peter Hale. Which made Stiles kind of think that maybe he was overlooking the fact that the man he was in love with was **also** undead.

He moved tentatively, taking Peter’s hand as he curled in close to the older man and stared into his eyes, “No, it won’t.”

The alpha wanted to pull away, the slight sting of rejection taking him a little by surprise, but he wrapped his arm around Stiles’s shoulders and nodded his understanding. If this was all they’d ever be to one another, he’d take it, because it was better than nothing - and apparently all Stiles was willing to give.

Stiles took Peter’s hand and held it close to his face, and as much as he said it’d never happen, as wrong as he thought it was, he **still** kind of wanted it. He’d always wanted it, and he always would, he loved Peter. But they’d lost that chance the moment his heart stopped beating.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to feel more than heartache, he wanted to pull Peter in and kiss him, get lost in him for the rest of the older man’s life. But it was wrong, and he wouldn’t, and Stiles had always been the solo best friend, whose only sex life involved his hands and some illegal porn. Chances were he wouldn’t need that either - his dick hadn’t really worked right since death, and he was tentative to explore it, even worried, but he was dead, so what could he really worry about?

Instead, he put all of his frustrations into what he **could** do, taking Peter’s palm and pressing his lips to it furiously, closing his eyes as he ran his other hand down the alpha’s arm, through the soft hair, feeling the fire of his skin on his fingers and his lips, soaking into his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn everyone, as an aside, that it's possible fer this rp/fic to go on hiatus or end randomly at some point. Most of ours seem to go that way. But I'm putting up all we have fer now, so that readers can enjoy it. PLEASE, don't go on reading thinking that it'll be completely concluded, the same goes fer the rest of our werks.
> 
> -WincestSounds


	6. Chapter 6

Once morning started settling in, Stiles had to move to the other side of the couch to avoid the light when they realized that that actually **was** an issue with Vampires. He started getting hungry again, almost getting to the point where even Peter looked good to eat, and he glanced at the alpha in concern when he heard a car park outside.

His eyes pooled black and he tried swallowing, “Who is it? What’s going on?” He asked as he heard a pair of heartbeats, as he listened to the blood flowing in their veins and his teeth descended, “ _Peter_.”

Peter offered a small smile and reached to pat Stiles on the knee, “It’s okay, calm down,” He tried soothing the younger man before standing, “You have to eat, Stiles. I’ll watch you and make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

The alpha moved to the door and grabbed the handle, looking back at his friend pointedly, “But maybe you should get a hold on the fangs so you don’t scare them before they even get a chance to get comfortable.”

Stiles eyed Peter skeptically before turning his face against the couch and trying to calm himself down, nails retracting and teeth following quickly after. It was hard to keep calm when humans were so _close_ , and they smelled heavenly. The only thing he could really think of was sinking his teeth in and ripping their throats out, so steeling himself was easier said than done.

Peter opened the door and greeted the girls as politely as he could, “I should probably warn you beforehand,” He started, stepping aside to let them in, but keeping a cautious eye on Stiles at the same time, “He’s new, so his urges and instincts are stronger, but I’ll ensure your safety as well as pay you up front.”

The alpha closed the door and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbing a hundred dollar bill before holding it out, “I’m not sure which one of you he’ll be feeding off of.”

“Me,” The first girl raised her hand and smiled wide as they walked into the house, she reached out and took the money. She would’ve gladly came for free, but she wasn’t about to argue free money. She looked at the young boy on the couch and then Peter again.

“He’s so _young_ ,” She observed, frowning a bit in sympathy, “He’s... Your son?” She asked, because she couldn’t really see him being anything else.

Stiles closed his eyes and wet his lips, trying to stay calm but all he could hear was the sound of the blood in her veins as he turned finally to look at her and fought the urge to let his fangs out.

“He’s a friend of mine, actually,” Peter said, smiling at both of the girls, “If you don’t mind, just give me a moment alone with him and make yourselves comfortable.”

He moved back to Stiles and crouched down in front of the younger man sitting on the couch, “We need to develop a few rules before you eat in order to help you work on your control, okay?”

Peter raised his brows at Stiles, “First of all, no biting, not until I tell you that you can and definitely not until you do have some control. Secondly, no touching, alright? Just your mouth, because if you get your hands on them, you could still kill them.”

He sighed, “And lastly, if they tell you to stop, you stop. You don’t want to drain them dry.”

Stiles watched the girl as Peter spoke, eyes darkening for a moment and he nodded as he listened to his friend. He didn’t really **care** , the rules sounded reasonable, all Stiles wanted was blood, he didn’t care _how_ he got it, as long as it happened.

He turned to look Peter in the eyes and nodded, “Okay.”

The first girl, meanwhile, just stood and watched him back, looking over the dark colors of the creases in his skin, his pale complexion. And, while she wanted to believe in vampires, and had striven to like most, she could still respect the roleplaying aspects of it.

“Good,” Peter murmured, reaching up to cuff the back of Stiles’s head as he stood and moved to the girl, “If you want, you can take a seat on the couch. Instead of using his fangs, I’ll probably just nick you with a knife, is that alright?” He asked, pulling a clean one from his pocket as he met her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” The girl agreed, smiling again and moving to sit down relatively close to the boy, and her friend sat just behind her. She reached out her arm, pulling back the sleeve of her jacket to her elbow and offering it to Peter.

Stiles stared at the ivory skin, eyes widening as he watched them and his gaze flicked back and forth from her arm to Peter’s eyes, then to the knife, and back to her arm again as he sat up even more.

Peter flicked the knife open and offered the girl a small smile before grabbing her wrist, holding it gently in his hand and glancing at Stiles before dragging the sharp end of the blade over her skin, cutting her enough for the younger man to actually get a good drink but not enough to kill her.

Wincing, he met the girl’s eyes, again, “Sorry if that hurt, but better a blade than his fangs, trust me.”

“It’s fine,” The girl repeated again, watching the blood leak out.

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a blade to her wrist, that was for sure. She didn’t say that, opting to remain quiet more or less, and she looked at the boy then as he stared at her hungrily, his body almost shaking as he watched her and forced his eyes up to meet Peter’s.

Their relationship was a little unusual for him to just be claiming that they were friends, but she didn’t press. A Dom had his way of doing things, and who was she to question them?

Peter kept her wrist in his hand and he reached up with his free one, cupping the back of Stiles’s head as he looked at him pointedly, “Don’t hurt her, Stiles, I mean it.”

He leaned in a little closer, close enough so that the younger man would be the only one to hear him, “You hurt her and I’ll break your neck, you know I will and I won’t hesitate.” He pulled back, eyes intent on Stiles’s as he nodded to her wrist and held it up for him to take it.

Stiles’s brows narrowed and he watched Peter warily before moving in and pressing his mouth to the wound, tongue flicking out to catch what had been dripping free and he groaned hungrily before his lips wrapped around the cut and he started sucking as gently as he could. He heard her gasp, but his eyes were set on Peter’s as he drank, staring up at the older man as he tried to swallow as quickly as he drew the liquid into his mouth.

The alpha stood up and took a step back, gaze flicking back and forth from where Stiles’s lips were pursed against the skin and the younger man’s eyes, his own darkening considerably as he watched.

“Whenever you want him to stop, tell him so,” Peter told the girl, not prying his eyes from his friend once as he buried his hands in his pockets.

Under the right circumstances, he could definitely see the appeal, why girls and guys did things like this. Thankfully, the girls probably only thought they were role players of some sort. Little did Miss Bloodbag know, she actually had a real vampire feeding from her.

Stiles groaned again, sucking harder at the skin, wanting more of it - **faster** \- his eyes started to turn black as he imagined sinking his teeth into her arm and drinking deeply. His mouth opened wider, fangs descending and the girl gasped again, this time out of fear and he growled as she began to move away before he reached up and grabbed her arm to pull her back in.

“Stiles,” Peter growled out and moved to grab a handful of his friend’s hair, pulling him away from her harshly and glaring at him, “You’re scaring her, you need to stop.”

He kept his hand fisted in his hair and looked at the girl, “I’m sorry, I tried to warn you... He’s new.”

The alpha looked back at his friend and clenched his jaw, “You need to apologize if you plan on eating,” He breathed, reaching up with his other hand to wipe the blood from Stiles’s bottom lip with his thumb.

He let go of him cautiously and gestured to the girl, “Apologize.”

Stiles swallowed guiltily and looked at Peter first before turning to the girl, “Sorry,” He licked the blood from the corners of his mouth, and then from his teeth, looking up to meet her eyes. He could smell the fear on her, pungent, and delicious, almost more than the blood itself.

The girl nodded and watched him, and suddenly it wasn’t roleplaying anymore. She was positive about the fangs, and his eyes. She’d seen the change at once, no kind of special effects could’ve pulled that off. Though she was surprised, she wouldn’t be one to scare so easily from a real, live Vampire.

She raised her arm again and looked at Peter, “I’m fine, it’s okay.”

Peter nodded at the girl and looked back to Stiles, “Be _gentle_ ,” He said, drawing the last word out a bit, “One more time, Stiles, and I’ll do it... Please don’t test me.” The younger man was already dead, the most it would do would be immobilize him for a while.

The alpha looked up and met the other girl’s eyes, offering her a small smile before returning his attention to his friend, “Go ahead, before it dries up.”

Stiles moved at once to suck at her wrist again, clenching his fists in his lap as his tongue worried the cut, pushing it open as he started drawing blood once more.

It was slow, but he kept himself reigned in, eyes opening as he looked up at Peter again, growling deep in his throat as his tongue pressed against her skin more, licking the crease and pushing it wider apart, ignoring her soft hiss of pain. He was too hungry to care, too impatient for the blood to come out.

The alpha smirked at Stiles, somewhat proud that the younger man wasn’t losing it completely and ripping both girls to shreds, because he could’ve if he really wanted to, and chances were that Peter wouldn’t be able to stop him in time. But Stiles was displaying control. It was barely there, but he’d get better with it in time.

He wet his lips and mouthed out the word ‘easy’ to the younger man, watching the way his tongue pressed into the cut with rapt attention.

Stiles felt like his heart would probably have been racing, if it could’ve, it probably would’ve been fast, like the girl beside him.

He decided, at once, that he really didn’t like being gentle. He wanted to sink his teeth in, he wanted to suck harshly, without abandon, he wanted to drain every last drop from her body and move on to the girl behind her. Stiles looked up at Peter, reminded himself that the alpha didn’t like the idea of him doing that, and that Peter would have to break his neck if he lost control again.

The girl started to pull back, but his mouth followed her wrist, not really ready to let it go, but she kept pulling it away, drawing her arm to her chest and he growled once more, teeth descending, eyes changing as he started to move.

“No, Stiles,” Peter shook his head and moved back in, pressing his palm to his friend’s chest to stop him. He tried to draw the younger man’s attention from the girl, moving his head to block his view, “No more, she’s done.”

His gaze dropped pointedly to his friend’s fangs, “Put them away.”

He could feel Stiles’s chest muscles tensing under his hand, like he was ready to move, to pounce on his prey, but he kept his eyes level with the younger man’s in hopes that he’d calm down.

"Peter,” Stiles said once his fangs retracted and he looked down as he sat back and relaxed again. He could probably overpower Peter easily, but he didn’t want to. The alpha was his dearest friend, and Stiles needed to respect him.

Though he wanted to tear into them and suck them dry, he knew he’d be doing the older man a disservice by going against his wishes, and them, because they’d come so willingly, “Thanks,” He said, both to Peter and to the girl by him.

Peter nodded minutely and removed his hand from Stiles’s chest tentatively, straightening his back and looking at the girl, offering both her and her friend a tight-lipped smile, “Sorry for the issues, but thank you for coming out so early,” He said, gesturing to the door, “If you’d like, I could see you both out.”

If he were them and hadn’t been aware of supernatural presences, and that had happened to him, he probably would’ve high-tailed it out of there screaming and yelling - so really, they were both handling it admirably.

The second girl spoke up then, voice soft, “Is he still hungry?” She asked.

She had remained unusually silent for the most part, but now she was eying Stiles with awed curiosity. She’d never seen, nor imagined that Vampires were real. But as she looked at him, at the color of his lips, the darkness under his eyes, and remembered the fangs, she couldn’t help but be _morbidly_ curious.

Stiles frowned as he watched her, as he listened to her heart race, and the loud sound of blood pumping in her veins - she was _excited_. Probably enthralled with the idea of being near something supernatural, she probably didn’t even suspect, though, that Peter himself was a werewolf.

“Probably still very hungry, I imagine,” Peter said, narrowing his brows at the girl before looking at Stiles, “Were you willing as well?” He asked, grabbing for his wallet, “I could pay you, I know he’d appreciate the sustenance.”

That, and if the other girl let him feed as well, he probably wouldn’t be hungry until the next day, and that was good.

“Keep your money, sir,” The girl said, swapping places with the first, “Chances are others will want pay - I don’t,” She smiled wide and pulled her sleeve back to her elbow, holding it out for Peter as her friend chuckled and sat back, watching her knowingly.

Stiles raised a brow, but she was right, he could tell that she was even more willing than the first, one of those shy types, but now that she’d realized it wasn’t roleplaying, she’d probably gotten up some kind of courage to bare herself. He could understand that pretty well, and he was thankful, he’d have to be careful not to chase off someone so _eager_.

Peter paused for a moment and tucked his wallet away, “Very well,” He said, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of her.

He pulled his knife back out and wiped the tip on the knee of his pants before taking her wrist in his hand, “This’ll sting, I apologize in advance.”

The alpha smiled and pulled the blade across her skin, wincing as the blood began dribbling out. He folded the knife back up and stuffed it in his pocket before urging her wrist towards Stiles, brows raised at his friend, “Be **careful**.”

Stiles moved at once, catching the blood with his tongue and tracing it up to the cut before sucking _carefully_. He listened to the girl’s breathing increase, her heart rate climbing, and he stared at Peter again, pulling the warm liquid into his mouth as he watched the werewolf, as his eyes ran over Peter’s body and then went straight back up to his face again.

Stiles’s gaze was sharp at first, but as he drank, it began to soften as his need became less, blinking slower and slower as he fed.

The two girls watched the Vampire curiously, both surprised as he visibly relaxed, licking lazily at the cut until it had stopped bleeding and he finally pulled back of his own accord.

The second girl took her arm away and covered it, grinning at the sated boy before meeting her friend’s eyes.

Peter crossed his arms as he watched, attention just as rapt as before, and when Stiles pulled back, he couldn’t help the proud smile pulling at his lips. The younger man was getting better with his restraint already, given more time and more people to feed from, he’d probably be able to actually use his fangs in no time.

The alpha looked at the girl and smiled wider, “Thank you for offering and helping out,” He paused and considered his words before saying them, “If you’d like to come back in a few days or so, we’d appreciate it... Just make sure you take time to replenish yourselves first.” He had a feeling they’d be back, especially if their heart beats and the looks they were sharing were anything to go on.

The two girls nodded and stood together, taking that as their cue to leave. They both shook hands with Peter before leaving and Stiles laid his chin on the arm rest of the couch.

He wasn’t tired, but he definitely felt full, _bloated_ , even, “You need sleep,” He said then, voice unusually low as he watched the alpha, “Since I can’t leave the house, seeing as it’s... **Day**... And I can’t walk out in the sunlight like Roderick could, and I’m full, you should sleep, Peter.”

“You’re right,” The alpha said, clenching his jaw to fight a yawn and he stood to stretch before plopping down on the couch. It was a good idea, considering the only time he’d actually be able to sleep would be the day time.

“How do you feel, though?” He asked from his seat just next to Stiles, propping his legs up on the table and laying his hands on his stomach, “Feel the urge to rip through a crowd of people for just one drop of blood, or are you good for now?”

Stiles turned and curled in close against Peter, resting his hand over the alpha’s chest before wrapping it around his waist. Peter felt like one of those heated rocks meant for snakes - just warm, almost burning - but it was more than comforting to him, no matter how much it felt like he’d catch flame at any moment.

“That feeling you get when you eat four more slices of pizza than you should’ve? It’s something like that, I’m good. I’ll stay close - if I start to get hungry again, I’ll wake you up, even if it’s a little.”

“Okay,” Peter murmured, wrapping his arm around the back of Stiles’s shoulders, holding him close as he let his eyes drift shut, “Even if it’s a little, don’t forget.”

He didn’t necessarily like the idea of sleeping while Stiles was awake, but he didn’t really have much of an option, because if he went without rest he’d just end up with sleep deprivation, leaving him incapable of watching after a vampire.

The alpha reached up and played with Stiles’s hair, slowly lulling himself to sleep as the pads of his fingers rubbed against his friend’s scalp.

Stiles reveled in the feeling of Peter’s hand on his skin, the blazing touch of the tips of the older man’s fingers feeling like they were digging into his skull - it was an unusual sensation, almost painful in nature, but he didn’t say anything about it.

He’d wanted to be this close to Peter for a while now, to have the attention from the alpha on a more sensual level. The thought of doing anything more, of kissing him, sickened Stiles, but he kept remembering the feeling of the older man’s lips on his, and how Peter had shamelessly put himself out there, and claimed that ‘Stiles is still Stiles’.

He couldn’t do the kissing, or anything more, he’d like to think he never would, but he could allow the closeness. He **had** to. Now that he was cold and lifeless, more alone than he’d ever been, he needed to have this between them. If he had anything less, he definitely wouldn’t be human.

Stiles stayed close to Peter, wondering how cold he felt to the alpha, but he didn’t ask. He probably didn’t smell good, but he didn’t want to know. He just sat there, curled against Peter’s side until it started getting dark. Stiles wasn’t really hungry, but after ten hours of sitting, listening to his friend’s strong heart beats, Stiles didn’t wanna push his luck, in case he slipped up.

He shifted and turned to shake Peter a little, watching the snoozing alpha as he did so.

“Mm,” The alpha mumbled sleepily, eyes clenching shut even tighter as he grabbed at the hand shaking him, smoothing his own over Stiles's, “What time is it?” He asked, prying one eye open to look at his friend. The sleep had definitely helped, but now he felt kind of sluggish and stiff from sleeping on the couch.

Peter didn’t wait for Stiles to answer, “Are you hungry?” He sat up straighter then, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Not really,” Stiles admitted, smiling sadly, “We should probably do things now, while we can - see my dad, see the pack, right? I mean, we haven’t really talked to them since... _Since last night_. And you’re probably hungry too. We should find out what we can about Vampires. Why Roderick was able to walk in the light, what myths are real, what ones aren’t.”

“Right,” Peter nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket to send Derek a text, “Well, the pack is probably all over the place right now. Scott’s probably at the hospital with Allison, likely Lydia too, but the rest of them should be at my nephew’s. And I’m not so sure seeing your dad is a good idea right this moment, he’d probably run the other way screaming after what you did. I’d give that one a little time to breathe.”

The alpha stood and looked down at himself, “Just let me change real quick and then we’ll go, okay?”

Stiles nodded and sat back on the couch, pulling his knees to his chest as he rested his chin on them. He hated the idea of leaving his dad for another day, but Peter was probably right. He wasn’t sure if anything between him and his dad would ever go back to normal, or-

“Maybe I shouldn’t go back and see him at all. The fever took me, I’m dead now, he doesn’t need to know any more than what he saw. Staying around the house there would just cause him more pain than losing his only son.” He wanted to cry, but it didn’t seem possible for Vampires.

Peter had walked around the couch and was about to head down the hall to his room so that he could change, but he stopped behind it and looked at the back of the younger man’s head, “I can understand where you’re coming from and while I think that would be... Not a bad idea, I also think you need to stop and realize that you shouldn’t do that to yourself or him. You were all he had and yes, technically you’re dead, but you’re still moving, existing... So don’t do that to him.”

“Moving, existing, much like a leech, or a parasite,” Stiles mused to himself as Peter left the room, growing his claws out and looking at them curiously, “Vampires in TV shows are normally all glamorous and sexy... I’m just... Literally a walking, talking corpse, with a 24/7 erection.”

He still didn’t see how Peter could be interested in something like that, but he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it himself, so maybe he would’ve still been sexually interested in an undead Peter, all rotted and cold.

Peter sighed and moved to the bedroom to strip down, grabbing clean clothes from his dresser and pulling them on, “You’re not bad looking, if that’s what you’re worried about, you’re still attractive.”

He pulled his clean shirt on over his head, looking back over his shoulder as he talked to Stiles from the other room, “Even when the fangs come out and your eyes get dark, you’re even attractive then. I get that it’s easier to mope and complain about the negatives, but you need to realize it’s not something that can be undone and you’re going to have to live with it for the rest of your life.”

The alpha pulled his jeans on, “Even though you think negatively of yourself, why would you keep your father out of the loop? Why damn him to a lifetime of loneliness when you can still **technically** be there for him?”

“I’m undead, I can’t ‘live with’ anything, **technically** ,” Stiles replied sarcastically, “There is no ‘rest of my life’, my life ended last night. I don’t wanna damn my dad to loneliness, I wanna spare him from anything worse."

"I don’t doubt that he knows I’m dead, or suspects some kind of irreversible change, and he just saw me rip into like... How many people? Chances are I’ll slip up again, and I don’t wanna put him in that position, and have him try to cover for me over and over again, having to watch this... _Creature_ that looks like his son, all but eating people, and leaving a line of corpses for him to lie about. Why are you so insistent on me acting like I’m still alive? You’re a werewolf, it’s very different, trust me.”

“Fine,” Peter said dryly, slipping his shoes back on before walking back into the living room, “If that’s how you want to be about this whole thing then what do you want to do?” He asked, frowning as he walked around the couch to look at Stiles, arms crossed, “You want a funeral? Because we can do that... Then we need to make arrangements to move out of Beacon Hills, because if you’re ‘dead’, we can’t risk anyone else seeing you.”

“We can’t risk anyone seeing me as it is,” Stiles said, standing up and staring at Peter as well, putting his hands on his waist as his brows narrowed, “Look at me, I’m cold, and pale, and dead. Who wouldn’t take one look at me and suggest I see a doctor? And you know what they’d find? No pulse, no need for breath, can’t walk out in sunlight."

"I’m not like the Cullens, Peter, I’m not a sparkly stone, and this isn’t really Vampire Diaries where I look like a fucking healthy, albeit pale, super model - I’m undead - and if that doesn’t set them off, then me losing control and attacking someone definitely will. I don’t need a funeral, plenty of kids go missing every year, I’d just be another. But you’re right. I should leave, staying wouldn’t do anyone any good.”

“If you leave, you realize you’d be uprooting the entire pack, right?” Peter asked, brows furrowed as he moved closer, “Derek wouldn’t let you just up and leave by yourself... **I** wouldn’t let you go by yourself. If you move, the entire pack is going with you.”

He searched his friend’s face and shrugged, “We can explain your appearance to people... Poor circulation would explain why you’re so cold and as for how pale you are, you have some sort of iron deficiency. There are ways around you being able to stay, you’re just looking for a way out so that you don’t have to handle something like talking to your father.”

“Who could **stop** me from leaving?” Stiles asked in turn, “You can’t stop me, Derek can’t, none of you can. You could never find me, either. I could just leave, and none of you would be any the wiser. I don’t have a heartbeat, I don’t need to breathe. Staying here would just cause all of you more grief than I’m worth, and every person I accidentally kill, the pack would blame themselves.”

He hated even thinking of it, but maybe that was the only choice left, if Peter wouldn’t let him go, he’d just have to do it on his own, “I can’t stay, Peter, you know I can’t. As strong as I am, I’m the biggest liability. Staying would be worse.”

“You give me that big speech about not wanting to exist any more after I pass away and now you’re telling me you want to just up and leave?” Peter asked incredulously, nostrils flaring with both anger and hurt, “That’s cruel, Stiles.”

He turned then and moved to grab his keys from the stand, “If you really want to go, I’m not stopping you,” He said bitterly, keeping his back to his friend, “But you know how I feel, about the situation and about you. I’m trying to help you through this, but if you think you can handle it on your own and not lose control... Then **go**.”

Stiles stared at Peter’s back and moved forward tentatively, “You can’t tell me that what I’ve done already hasn’t put the pack in danger of being discovered. Not only that, but I almost killed one of our own... **Many** of our own, in fact. No, I don’t wanna leave you, and the thought of doing it is... It’s too painful to consider, but I have to consider it, Peter."

"I’m not trying to find an easy out, I don’t think there **is** one. I’m just trying to think of saving my pack, and my dad, and you from things that I’ll end up doing... Regardless of having good moral support or not. Peter,” He reached out to touch the alpha’s arm, “Please don’t turn your back on me.”

The alpha turned around and met Stiles’s eyes, “A good support system could help more than you know,” He argued, shaking his head at the younger man, “You don’t just quit being pack, Stiles, it’s not like a job. If you leave, I’m not going to be the only one who suffers the loss, the rest of them will as well, regardless of what you’ve done. They’re not stupid, they know you didn’t ask for this, and they also know that you didn’t do what you did just because you wanted to. So consider it if you need to, but I’m asking you **not** to leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you didn't read the notes of Chapter 5, please, read this:**
> 
> I just want to warn everyone, as an aside, that it's possible fer this rp/fic to go on hiatus or end randomly at some point. Most of ours seem to go that way. But I'm putting up all we have fer now, so that readers can enjoy it. PLEASE, don't go on reading thinking that it'll be completely concluded, the same goes fer the rest of our werks.
> 
> -WincestSounds


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles moved forward, reaching up to wrap his arms around Peter’s neck and pulling him in, he turned against the alpha, lips pressed to the corner of his jaw as he closed his eyes, “Okay, okay, stop talking. Goddamn, you’re like fifty times more needy now that I’m dead,” Stiles joked weakly, his claws growing as he scratched through Peter’s hair.

“I’m not needy, I’m just trying to appeal to your better nature,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist and squeezing him tightly, “Because you’re even more stubborn now than you were alive.”

The Vampire ignored Peter’s words, choosing not to comment on them. He frowned as he slowly realized that his boner was practically prodding the older man’s hip, “Sorry,” He said suddenly, and if he wasn’t undead, he would’ve been blushing clear down to his toes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter said dismissively, pressing his lips to his neck, “I’m assuming it has something to do with the whole you being ‘deceased’ thing.”

Stiles closed his eyes as he felt Peter’s lips on him and he felt this sudden, impatient, itchy feeling inside of him. He could only really associate it with arousal, but it still felt very dissimilar.

He couldn’t really get _hard_ , considering he already was, but it was like he was starting to feel... _Sensitive_ \- like the skin under Peter’s lips would break if he pulled away, “I probably shouldn’t go walking around in sweat pants and your old Henley, should I? My dick’ll be bouncing everywhere.”

Peter chuckled against Stiles’s cool skin and pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, “We're about the same size, you can wear a pair of my jeans if you want?”

He shrugged, “Has it been like that the entire time? Is it not uncomfortable?”

“Umm... I don’t really notice it, like, at _all_ ,” Stiles admitted, looking down at it, “As far as I know, it’s been hard since I changed, hasn’t let down for a second, as far as I remember. It doesn’t even feel like it **should** be erect, honestly. I’m kinda finding it stranger than the thirst for blood, the fangs, or the claws, it’s just... _Weird_.”

“I would ask if you’ve tried to get it to go away, but you’ve been around me the whole time, so...” Peter sighed and rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the obscene thing tenting out the sweat pants.

“Surprised you didn’t scare the girls away for another reason,” He said absentmindedly, “Jeans are in the third drawer down, you’re welcome to help yourself.”

Stiles said he didn’t notice it, which made the alpha wonder if he could even feel it at all. It would be kind of a let down if the guy had to go the rest of his life without enjoying orgasms.

“I kept it between my legs the best I could...” Stiles smirked and chuckled, “That’s what she said,” He moved from Peter, walking to the older man’s bedroom and opening the drawer, “I was worried about it when I first saw it... But now it’s like, I’m undead, so really... What the Hell is there to be worried about, **physically**? I’m a Vampire, and we really don’t know much about them.”

He grabbed a pair of Peter’s boxers and pulled them on, followed by the jeans. He couldn’t position the length down towards his legs because it’d be too obvious, so he settled for positioning it up in the hem of his jeans, “Then again, Incubus are meant to sex up women and impregnate them, so I’m guessing it’s got **some** kind of purpose. That’s with assuming that Incubus and Succubus exist.”

“I’m sure they do, I mean, coming from a werewolf that has a vampire in his bedroom,” Peter leaned against the front door and crossed his arms as he waited on Stiles, “It’s hard to tell what else is out there, just make sure you tuck that thing away so you don’t cause a distraction while we’re out,” He teased.

“Thankfully I can’t really feel it much, otherwise this would be... Really uncomfortable, I’m thinking,” Stiles said.

He was still tempted to rub one out and see what happened, but they didn’t have the time to mess around with things. He finished and walked out, meeting Peter’s eyes as he joined him at the door, “As much as I wanna learn more about Vampires, I don’t have a clue where to start. Alan would probably be a best first bet, though,” He spoke as he walked passed the older man.

“Alan it is then,” Peter agreed and followed Stiles out, locking the door behind him.

He unlocked the car before climbing in, “Then Derek’s after, I’m sure he wants to check up on you... Everyone else would like to know you’re not rabid, I’m positive.”

The alpha started the car and pulled out of the driveway, “Also, if you get hungry, please make sure you let me know. The quicker we get it taken care of, the better off you’ll be.”

Stiles didn’t bother with the seatbelt, figuring that it was safe to say it was pointless, this time yesterday he was sleeping in Peter’s bed, sweating up a storm, and feeling the beginning pains of his body shutting down. He could remember turning into the mattress and screaming in pain, what it felt like to have his insides giving out while he was still alive.

He didn’t blink as he sat in the seat, didn’t scratch his skin or sigh with heavy breaths, or occasionally fidget, “They’ll be uneasy around me,” He said finally, looking down at himself, “And Scott, Scott probably won’t wanna see me at all.”

“They’ll be uneasy around you until they realize that you’re still technically you,” Peter spoke softly as he drove, glancing over occasionally at his friend, “You need to show them that not everything has changed. And I imagine Scott’s upset, but I don’t think he really holds you accountable. I’d say visiting Allison and apologizing would be a good way to begin with him.”

“I’d say visiting Allison in a hospital, where they’re probably pumping blood into her system, and other various patients in the building have blood around them, or blood involved somewhere, would do more harm than it would any amount of good,” Stiles responded as he looked out the front windshield, unblinking, “It sounds good on paper, but I don’t think it’d end well.”

“Fine,” Peter shrugged and sighed, stopping at a red light, “Then apologize as soon as she’s released and explain to both of them why you didn’t come visit in the hospital, I’m sure they’ll understand. Or maybe they won’t, who knows... Not me. Generally when I think something will go in one direction, it ends up going the opposite.” Kind of how he’d expected things to go over more smoothly with Stiles and then things took a nose dive.

Stiles turned and looked at Peter, staring at the older man and nodding, “If they let her out, I’m not sure how bad she is, but I know I broke bones - probably a lot of really important ones. I feel guilty, but the only one I feel guilty about is her. The rest... It’s fucked up but... I don’t feel guilty about much of them at all. My humanity is slipping.”

He wet his lips, ignoring how sticky his tongue felt, and frowned even more, “Soon enough, I’ll be like him, just a merciless predator who has little to no value of human life.”

“No you won’t,” The alpha argued, frowning and shaking his head, “And I have to say, I wasn’t aware pessimism came along with being a vampire. All you’ve done is look at the glass half empty instead of half full and I don’t like it, so can you maybe not be so depressing all the time?”

He gripped the steering wheel more and pressed on the gas as the light turned green, “Have a little faith in me, I’m going to try and keep you on the straight and narrow.”

Stiles reached out and took Peter’s hand, closing his eyes as he felt the heat, the warmth of the older man skin in his palm. He couldn’t explain it to Peter, it was impossible to try and get the werewolf to empathize with the heavy feeling of death.

Stiles was probably incapable of feeling optimistic anymore. All he’d felt since dying was hunger, anger, sadness, and lust. He felt like Peter was the only thing keeping him human, even remotely. Just as the man had said, he would try, he would keep Stiles grounded.

“If I have faith in anything, it’s you, trust me,” He said, and if he could’ve cried, his eyes would’ve been blurring with tears, as it was... He just felt tight. All he had was Peter, he didn’t even have himself any more, not really.

Peter swallowed thickly and curled his fingers around Stiles’s, squeezing them reassuringly, “Good,” He murmured quietly as he parked in front of the clinic. He just hoped more than anything that his friend was wrong, because he wasn’t really sure what he could do to keep Stiles from going completely feral.

The alpha took the keys from the ignition and looked over at the younger man sadly before pulling his hand free to get out of the vehicle.

Stiles climbed from the car as well, glancing down at himself to make sure everything was where they were supposed to be before joining the alpha as they walked in through the front door.

Alan looked up from the front desk before his eyes widened and he stood, backing up and putting his hand out as he stared at Stiles, “Don’t come any closer, Stiles,” He said in warning, looking at Peter then and frowning as he eyed the two of them warily, “Is there any... Particular reason you’re here?”

Peter’s mouth twisted into a confused frown, brows narrowed, “We came here because we thought maybe you would know a good deal about vampires. We have little to no information.”

He moved to the space between Stiles and Alan and shook his head, “I know you’re probably aware of what he did, but he’s not going to hurt you. He wasn’t in control last night.”

“No vampire is ever really in control,” Alan said and stepped back even further, “You should both leave.”

Stiles frowned as well and eyed the veterinarian warily, “Alan, you know me, I won’t hurt you-”

“I know vampires,” The man said as he reached back behind himself, shaking his head as he watched Stiles, “You’re not the same, I’m sure you know that, though. You don’t feel right, do you?” He asked rhetorically, taking up a pad of paper and a pen, and writing down something as his eyes flicked up from the paper, back to Stiles so often that it was starting to make the vampire uncomfortable.

Peter sighed and turned to look at Stiles, brows raised, “This is ridiculous... And a waste of time. We should go, considering he’s too afraid to even come near you.”

He could take one look at Stiles and tell he was in control. For how long, he wasn’t sure, but the younger man had a decent handle on it for the time being. Alan’s behavior, though reasonable, irritated the hell out of him.

Alan finally finished writing and handed the paper over to Peter before motioning to the door, “Leave, now.”

“Alan,” Stiles started, but the man gave him a warning look and he wasn’t really use to that expression. In all his time training and learning magic with the vet, he’d never once felt unaccepted, no matter how stupid he often was. He nodded finally and turned, leaving the building with his head down.

The alpha looked at Alan before following Stiles out, paper in one hand as he reached up with the other, resting his hand on the nape of the younger man’s neck, “Don’t worry about it,” He said, able to see how upset his friend was. “Never really could stand the guy anyway.”

Peter moved to climb back in the car before looking at the paper, brows furrowed in confusion. He handed it to Stiles and shrugged, “This mean anything to you?”

Stiles looked at the paper and shook his head, “What the Hell is in Nebraska?” He folded up the paper and put it in his pocket, sitting silently then as he tried to keep calm.

Peter may not have liked Alan, but Stiles did. He liked to think that he and the veterinarian had grown close over time, to have a person that smart, that knowing of the supernatural realm, shun him completely, it got to him - it was seriously getting to him still.

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted honestly, starting up the vehicle and pulling back onto the main road, “We’ll show Derek and see if he does, but if I don’t know, I doubt he will. Maybe we’ll just have to go and find out, that’d be interesting.”

Of course, there were certain complications they’d have to work around - like Stiles not being able to be in sunlight and finding him food whenever he needed it - but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t work around. It wouldn’t be their first road trip, that was for sure, but it was definitely going to be their most challenging.

“Maybe we’re not supposed to know, considering we didn’t know about vampires, it’s probably a safe bet that it involves that. He wouldn’t give us a piece of paper about anything else,” Stiles wet his lips again, and his tongue was so sticky that he actually reached into his mouth and touched it, running his finger over the unusually thick film of saliva in his mouth and narrowing his brows.

Peter nodded and glanced over at Stiles, confused as to why the younger man was touching his tongue, “What are you doing? Is something wrong? Are you hungry?” He asked, throwing the questions out without giving his friend time to respond.

Stiles turned and shrugged, shaking his head, “No, I’m actually still really full,” He didn’t know how to explain the second part without sounding weird, so he just said it, “My mouth is sticky. Like, it was really dry before, like sandpaper dry, now it’s kinda like... Like slimy, almost.”

“Oh,” Peter drawled out, trying not to grimace, “Well that doesn’t sound disgusting in the slightest. One of the perks of being dead, I’m sure,” He said dryly.

The alpha took a left and drove to the end of the road, parking across the street from his nephew’s building.

Stiles laughed and shook his head, “Dude, you asked, I answered, I didn’t say it was going to be a pleasant answer.”

He climbed from the car, grinning wide as he shut the door, glancing down at his crotch again to make sure his dick was in the right place. So far, nearly everything about his changes could be used in some unusually kinky sex thing, but it seemed that his body was still changing slowly - that things were taking place over some amount of time, now that his body was shut down from nearly all of it’s initial factory settings and purposes.

“You could have warned me,” Peter teased, climbing from the car as well before walking across the road to enter the building.

“I know you, I know you have inner monologue and it should have went something like, ‘Does Peter really want to know about my slimy tongue? No, probably not. Lie it is’.” He chuckled and hit the button once they were in the elevator.

“It was more like ‘I don’t know how else to phrase this, so speak now, think later’,” Stiles admitted as he joined the older man.

He was suddenly curious, wondering if the alpha’s views on how gross his tongue was changed his initial statement about ‘Stiles still being Stiles’. Men can talk big talks, but once he got icky, maybe things changed, “Makes me wonder about the rest... Though.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, turning more towards Stiles, “What’s the ‘rest’?”

The elevator doors opened and he stayed next to Stiles as they walked out, but he reached out and grabbed him by the arm to stop him before they came face to face with his nephew. He wanted to know what his friend was talking about and he really didn’t want Derek butting in.

“The rest of the things that have yet to change,” Stiles explained, looking at Peter.

“Things that come with being a Vampire, with being undead. My insides, my body, my feelings. It’s not just me that’s changing, it’s everything around me - everyone. How they perceive me, how I perceive them. And what Alan said, about never having control, how he looked at me,” He shook his head, “The 'rest'.”

“A lot of it is inevitable,” Peter said, reaching up and squeezing his friends biceps, “But if we run into any complications, we’ll handle it. Judging from how you’ve been acting, you’ll probably worry about it, but don’t... try to live - or not live, in your case - in the moment. If you worry about what was and what will be, you’ll never be happy.”

Stiles hated to sound like the pessimist again, but he shook his head, “I don’t know if that’s actually possible, and neither do you,” He started, “You have twelve full moons in a year, the occasional thirteenth... I have three hundred and sixty-five, none of which wait until night time to start. I don’t know if ‘living’, even in the figurative sense, is actually possible for me, not now.”

“Oh dear god,” Peter breathed out, staring at Stiles for a solid minute before shaking his head and walking off. Stiles had gone from somewhat vibrant, talkative and optimistic to glum, worrisome and pessimistic. If he didn’t look the same, he probably wouldn’t even know it was the same person.

Stiles stared at Peter’s back for a moment before following the older man, he was pretty use to being accused of overreacting, or taking things too seriously, or not taking most serious things serious enough, but that didn’t mean he liked it any more as time went on. He followed the alpha slowly, keeping his distance as he wet his lips.

Peter sauntered into the loft, looking about idly and rolling his eyes at the huge hole in the wall, “Derek,” He called out, moving to the couch to sit down.

Isaac was the first to walk into the room, wringing his hands together nervously as he stared at Stiles with wide eyes. He knew that it was still Stiles, but after what he’d witnessed him do, it was reasonable to be a little afraid.

Derek walked down the spiral staircase and met Stiles’s eyes first, nodding to him and looking at Peter, What happened with Alan?” He asked, raising a thick brow curiously. He’d been initially worried about his pack, about Stiles and Peter remaining silent for so long, but he’d figured they needed the space to deal with Stiles’s changes.

“We walked in and he freaked out, backed away and essentially told us to leave,” Peter said, resting his arms up behind his head, “Gave us a piece of paper with an address on it, though, before he shoved us out. We were hoping maybe you’d know what it was or why he gave it to us.”

“It’s some address in Nebraska,” Stiles explained, watching as Derek shook his head in response, just as clueless as them, apparently, “So what’s been happening since... Since everything?”

Derek sat on the bed and motioned Stiles to come more into the room as he rested his elbows on his knees, “Scott’s with Allison in the hospital, it’s not looking good, we might... We might have to give her the bite,” He frowned at the look on Stiles’s face and put out his palms helplessly, “We might not have a choice."

"I took the sheriff home, he’s upset, but he wants to talk to you, when you can manage. Is he okay?” Derek asked Peter then, “He’s not hungry?”

Peter stared at Derek blankly, “You could have just as easily asked him, he’s standing right there,” He huffed, narrowing his brows, “He has a mouth and is fully capable of answering you, I’m not some sort of translator. If you want to know if he’s okay or if he’s hungry, ask him instead of treating him like a child. He’s a vampire, that doesn’t mean he’s brain dead.”

The alpha wasn’t really sure where the bitterness came from, but he was willing to bet it had something to do with Alan treating Stiles differently.

“I was asking you because you’re an adult,” Derek responded, narrowing his brows, “He,” He motioned to Stiles, “Is an immortal nineteen year old boy. You’re in more control of the world than he is his own body, it just made sense to ask you.”

Stiles took the seat by Peter and gave him a look that said ‘we should probably get use to this’, “I’m fine,” He lied, thankful that no one would ever know he was lying again, “I fed, I’m not hungry now. I haven’t been hungry for over... Almost twelve hours now.”

“You fed?” Isaac asked, crossing one arm over his abdomen as he chewed on the hem of his sleeve, “But how?”

“It would seem that, under the right circumstances, he’s able to feed without losing control like he did the first time,” Peter offered, looking at Stiles, then to Isaac, and then to his nephew, “It’s not like we can cut him off of human blood entirely, it’ll kill him. With practice and time, I won’t even need to watch after him.”

Derek watched Peter and Stiles warily, not knowing for sure if he wanted to ask them how or who he’d fed on, but he had to know, “You’re not killing for him, are you?” He questioned his uncle, “I’m not going to start hearing about random deaths again? Because it’s too much of a risk, Peter.”

“Actually,” Stiles interjected, “The first time, he had a pretty good reason, considering all the people he off’d were connected to the fire. None of that was 'random'.” He didn’t like it when Derek went back to accusing Peter of what had happened, it was too long ago to even care about - but, then again, it wasn’t the first time he’d had to stick up for the older man.

Peter sighed and patted Stiles’s knee as he shook his head, as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’. He’d come to terms that no one would ever let him live what he did down, regardless of how much he tried to redeem himself. It was saddening that the same thing seemed to be happening to Stiles in a sense, what with everyone treating him differently, now.

“I’m not killing anyone,” The alpha clarified, looking directly at his nephew, “If you happen to hear of random deaths, I assure you it’s not me. The girls he fed on were... Very willing and will probably be back again. Like I said, under the right circumstances...”

The thought made Derek sick to his stomach and his brows narrowed as he listened to Peter, “ **Girls**?” He asked and frowned more when they nodded, “No, not again. You need to find another way, Peter."

"I don’t want him feeding on humans like they’re... Like they’re some kind of blood bag or something. Not only is it wrong, but it’s dangerous. What if he had slipped up? You wouldn’t have been able to stop him, we’ve seen how well that went. Willing or not, I won’t allow it."

"Feed him on animals, or the blood from uncooked meat, steal some from the hospital, but I **don’t** want him drinking from people.”

Stiles wasn’t really fond of being referred to as if he were a dog, or an animal of some sort, unable to think and speak for himself, and while he’d heard nothing short of reassurance from Peter, the fact that he’d been shunned by Alan, and now scolded by Derek made him feel really... _Wrong_.

Peter clenched his jaw and his stare darkened, nostrils flaring angrily as he glared at his nephew, “Don’t you dare do to him what all of you have done to me. He didn’t ask for any of this and the lives he took were unintentional. He’s trying to learn control, trying to keep himself in check and I’m helping him. The last fucking thing he needs is everyone turning their backs on him.”

The alpha looked at Stiles and jerked his head, urging him to come with him, “We’re going on a road trip, feel free to call if you like. But I’m not restricting him, Derek, whether you want me to or not. I watch him when he feeds and that’s good enough for me. Some of us actually have faith in him.”

Stiles’s eyes widened as Peter lit up and he watched the furious look on Derek’s face as the alpha stood, eyes glowing red as Stiles got up to leave and Derek reached out to stop him.

“He’s unstable,” Derek growled as he looked Peter in the eyes, fingers wrapped around Stiles’s wrist.

The alpha didn’t like to have to put his foot down, but if he wanted to keep Stiles as human as possible, he’d have to, “He killed three people already, and he almost killed Allison, we don’t want something like him traveling to Nebraska before we’ve even figured out how to control him. If I find out he’s fed on one more human on your watch, Peter, I’ll remove you from this pack.”

“Don’t bother,” Peter said, removing his nephew’s hand from Stiles and putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder to usher him away, “I’ll do the honors myself, consider this my resignation from the pack.”

He turned to Stiles, frowning and gesturing to the elevator, “I’m leaving, I suppose this is where you make your choice.”

Stiles swallowed tightly, feeling his insides wrench as Peter left the pack. This was what he’d been hoping to avoid - while Peter wasn’t a treasured part of the pack, he was essential, important, and he played a bigger role than people gave him credit for.

He looked back at Derek and Isaac and he met their eyes in apology, shaking his head before he took Peter’s hand and turned to stare at him as they left.

Derek huffed and sat back down, listening to them until they were out of range and he felt like a hole had formed inside of him. Scott wasn’t going to be happy in the slightest, neither would Lydia, but he felt like he’d made the right choice. Letting Stiles drink from humans was wrong, it wasn’t natural.

He looked at Isaac and let out a heavy breath, “They’ll be back.”


	8. Chapter 8

Peter held Stiles’s hand tightly and pulled him in closer as they walked to the car, draping his arm over his friend’s shoulders, “You know you didn’t have to come with me, right? I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything. I could always go to Nebraska by myself and tell you what I find when I come back, Derek could help you feed on animals while I’m gone.”

“I didn’t feel obligated,” Stiles responded as he looked the alpha in the eyes, “Peter, you’re my closest friend, at this point, and you know how I feel about you. Trust me, it wasn’t a hard choice. _Difficult_ , yeah, but not hard."

"And I think it was more like... You didn’t have to come with me. I’m the one that’s changed, **I’m** the one being ostracized - and now you are, as well, for sticking up for me. So, really, it’s the other way around. He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, no one likes an ultimatum, now he has some time to think about what he’s done.”

“Yeah, well, here’s to hoping he’s come to his senses by the time we get back,” Peter said quietly and reached into his pocket for his keys, unlocking the car, “We’ll have to travel mostly by night, and there are a few things I need to grab from the house. Are you sure you want to go? It’s not too late to back out, now.”

He smiled, “You can’t tell me animal blood doesn’t sound appetizing,” The alpha rolled his eyes and moved to his side of the car.

“Could not even work,” Stiles responded, shaking his head, “Besides, drinking from animals that **aren’t** willing sounds a lot worse to me than drinking from humans that **are**.”

He climbed into his side, “Derek doesn’t like it, and I get his concerns, maybe I have a few of my own, and agree with some of his, but he’s going about it wrong. Even if I thought animal blood was the right way, I still wouldn’t stay. I’m going because if I have any responsibility after death, it’s figuring this out and trying to... _Make it work_. And stop from turning into the dick that did this to me.”

“And here I was hoping you came because of your undying love for me,” Peter joked and smiled to himself as he started the car, pulling his seat belt on before heading back towards the house, “When we’re on the road, you’ll still need to tell me when you get hungry. If anything, maybe we could find a hole in the wall bar somewhere, find someone too intoxicated to remember.”

Stiles laughed and shrugged, “We should probably stop by my place too, I mean, I know I’m dead and all that, but I _do_ need clothes if we’re gonna be gone longer than a day. I can’t just completely let myself go. If I’m quiet enough, we can probably avoid my dad entirely by going through the window, and just make it a quick in and out before more people can treat me like I’m some kind of brainless monster.”

“As long as we’re careful,” Peter nodded his agreement and took a turn to head towards Stiles’s instead, “But I wouldn’t consider wearing my clothes letting yourself go, I happen to like the way you look in them.” Not to mention how he smelled, like he belonged to Peter.

“Possessive already? And we’re not even together?” Stiles challenged, raising a brow, “I didn’t know that was a ‘thing’ before werewolves got sexually active.” Granted, most _humans_ were just like that in general, wanting to see their mates in their clothes, but the ‘scenting’ thing was different all together. He liked the idea of Peter being like that, though - **possessive**.

Stiles started to feel that weird sensation he kept referring to as arousal, because he couldn’t think of what else it could be, even though it was like trying to compare something sweet to something sour.

But, as he watched Peter, and the feeling started up again, he began getting all of these urges he couldn’t really place. The weirdest one, probably, was wanting to drink from him. Not in a hunger way, either. Stiles knew he wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t even really like werewolf blood.

“Shut up,” Peter drawled out without heat, glancing over at Stiles as he acted affronted, “I’m not possessive. Can I not just appreciate the way your ass looks in my jeans? You’ve made it clear we’re not going to be together, but it’s not like I’m just going to up and stop looking at you. I’m not blind, and you’re attractive, so bite me.”

He chuckled, “I take that back, you might actually do it...” He was silent for a moment and his smile faded, “You could, though... If you wanted to. I know you don’t like it, but I wonder if it would be enough in a pinch, enough to hold you over until we found something more satiating.”

“I don’t think it would, I drank from both you and Boyd, and it did nothing to fill my hunger before,” Stiles said as he looked away, his brows tightening together, “But I’m starting to think that Vampires don’t just like blood for feeding purposes. I think there’s more to it than just that.”

Stiles felt like his teeth were aching, not his human ones, but his **fangs** , like the idea of sinking them into Peter’s neck would sate something _else_.

Peter stopped at a red light and frowned, shifting in his seat slightly as he looked over at Stiles, shrugging, “If not just for feeding, then what else?” He asked, tapping his thumb on the steering column, “What would even make you think that there would be more to drinking blood other than sating your need for it?”

If Stiles had blood in his system that made blushing capable, he would’ve been glowing, but he just looked back at Peter and raised his brows, “I mean... I think I’ve been aroused in this... Uh... This form? I don’t know. I think that’s what it is, it’s really hard to place, and really different than human arousal. It’s happened a few times now, so I’m pretty sure that’s what it is.”

A slow smile began pulling at the corners of Peter’s mouth and he glanced at the stop light, easing off of the break and pushing on the gas when it turned green, “Oh really?” He asked, suddenly more curious, “Could you be more specific? What’s it feel like?... And could you specify when you think you felt it?”

“I don’t know, a few times, like when you were falling asleep, and you were touching my hair, or when your lips were on my skin, after we argued about me leaving,” Stiles listed them off the best he could, “There’ve been a few other occasions, but it’s really... I’ve just been really confused about it. Every time it happens, it’s like there’s more to it, first it was just this warmth, feeling like you were soaking into my skin and it was almost painful, kind of itchy, sometimes, this antsy feeling. Everything becomes really sensitive and it feels like... I don’t know how to explain it, it’s weird."

"But now it’s like _all_ of that, and there’s this ache, and I wanna...” Stiles closed his mouth and looked at Peter somewhat guiltily.

“No, no, don’t stop now, things were just starting to get interesting,” Peter chuckled and glanced over to look at Stiles, nodding with his brows raised expectantly, “You want to **what**?” He asked, parking at the end of the street. The alpha took his seat belt off and turned in his seat to better look at Stiles, crossing his arms and smirking, “What is it?”

“I wanna drink from you,” Stiles said as he kept his eyes from the older man, then rushed to clarify, “But I’m not hungry, I’m not hungry at all, I swear, it’s not a _hungry_ ache like... In my stomach. It’s in my **teeth** , like... They kinda hurt, and I wanna do other things, too - like claw you and stuff.” He didn’t want to feel like that, but he couldn’t help it, his body was kind of acting of its own accord, and apparently **it** didn’t really mind if it was undead or not.

“Huh,” Peter said thoughtfully, narrowing his brows at his friend, “Am I the only person you’ve wanted to do that to so far?” He asked, definitely more than okay with the idea. If Stiles was connecting those things with being aroused and those were things that he wanted to do to the alpha, then he’d let him, in a heart beat.

Stiles chuckled nervously, “Uh, yeah, of course. I mean, I haven’t really been around anyone else, much, but I can’t imagine getting _aroused_ by others. Normally I’m too concentrated on the burning to think of much else. But it’s definitely really different than like... Human arousal. I didn’t even know what it was at first, and I’m still only just assuming with this, but it can’t really be anything _else_.”

The alpha tilted his head to the side and smirked as he bared his neck, “Well, you’re welcome to try and see if that’s what it is... Unless you’re still trying to convince yourself that nothing will ever happen between us.”

He straightened up and shrugged, “In which case, never mind. Just know the offer is on the table.”

Stiles felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rise up when Peter exposed his skin. The vampire gasped as his fangs came out, eyes changing as they widened and he literally had to fight himself back. It was like ripping out strings of himself to retract the fangs.

They more than ached now, they **hurt** , he would’ve been better just cutting the damn things out. Stiles felt this uncomfortable knot in his throat, like when you swallow something wrong and it goes down slow and painful, but the second it reached his chest, it was like he’d been punched.

His body shook and he turned, climbing out of the car as he scratched at his forearms and jaw, wetting his lips as he tried to press everything back and not think about it so much.

The alpha watched Stiles in awe and climbed out of the car slowly before moving around to him, reaching up to grab him gently by the biceps, “You really want to... _Don’t you_?” He asked, ducking to better look at his friend’s face, “Then **do** it, Stiles. I’m offering it to you, I _want_ you to... Or is that the issue, that I want you to?”

“Peter, stop,” Stiles tried to push the older man back as his body shook, but the alpha was so close, so eager, and Stiles couldn’t keep pushing the urge away now, it was like wanting to rub one out and the sound of Peter’s blood and his heart were like fingers wrapping around him and pulling him in.

He stared into Peter’s eyes, his own wide as he grabbed the werewolf’s waist with one hand, claws growing out and he reached up with the other, taking Peter’s jaw, his palm rested underneath with his thumb on one side and his fingers on the other as he yanked it away to expose his throat.

Stiles leaned, mouth opening as his fangs came out once more and he growled before slowly sinking them in, keeping them there and clamping down tightly as he felt the blood and flesh, warm, burning around his teeth.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Peter hissed, grimacing slightly but he arched his neck for the younger man even more, hands moving to pull him closer. It hurt, in the way getting a set of fangs buried in your neck should, but it didn’t all feel bad. He shuddered against his friend’s frame and tightened his grip on Stiles’s hips, unable to keep his body from reacting to him.

Stiles bit down as hard as he could without breaking the skin between his teeth, his long nails drew down Peter’s cheek, the ones on his waist reaching under the shirt to touch his warm skin, drawing lazy lines over the heat of his body. Stiles pulled back a bit, leaving his teeth halfway in and groaning as the warm blood rushed into his mouth, thicker than he was use to, slowly passing over the aching fangs and causing him to feel dizzy, almost.

His body relaxed as he tasted something in Peter’s blood that hadn’t been there before. The taste was numbing and Stiles pulled back completely then, watching the liquid ooze out like syrup or honey, a darker shade of red than he was familiar with. He leaned in, lapping at it and growling until it was normal again, and Peter’s wounds had healed up.

The alpha tried not to whine at the loss of contact, moving forward and pinning Stiles against the side of his car as he tried to keep his breathing normal, “Okay, and?” He asked, rocking forward mindlessly and bumping his friend’s hip with his hardened length, “I know what it did for me, but what did it do for you?”

He reached up and ran his fingers over where Stiles had bitten him, gaze flicking back and forth from the younger man’s eyes and mouth, “Anything?”

Stiles grabbed Peter’s waist and pulled him in, “Oh my God, I wanna fuck you,” He said as he rubbed his hips up against the shape of the alpha’s dick in his jeans and Stiles felt that crumbling feeling, like anything that wasn’t touching Peter was probably falling to pieces. He leaned in, pressing his open mouth to the older man’s burning skin as he licked along the salty flesh.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Peter moaned low and throaty, somewhat taken aback, but turned on to the point to where it didn’t matter, “Your timing is impeccable,” He remarked breathlessly.

Reaching up, the alpha grabbed the nape of his friend’s neck, tilting his head to the side for Stiles as his cock hardened even more. He pulled back and stared at Stiles, pupils dilated, sexual tension thick in the air between them as he leaned in to kiss him, humming at the bitter taste of his own blood, “Sorry,” He frowned, remembering Stiles’s reaction to the last time he kissed him and he pulled away.

Stiles reached up, drawing Peter back in and kissing him as he’d wanted to do the first time. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the disgust from before. Clearly, if the things he was feeling were anything to go by, he wasn’t human anymore. And if he wasn’t human, then he probably wasn’t ‘dead’, per se. He was practically another species entirely.

All he could think about was Peter, and mating, and wanting to feel the man’s heated body take him over. He kept Peter close, rolling their hips against one another as the older man’s lips burned against his own.

Stiles opened his mouth, curious tongue pressing out and smearing the thicker saliva over Peter’s lips as he groaned.

Peter groaned as well and wrapped his arms around Stiles’s waist, getting caught up in the moment as he rutted against the younger man, sharp breaths spilling from his lips as he kissed back.

He met his friend’s tongue with his own and curled them together, brows furrowing in concentration as he licked into Stiles’s mouth, claiming it. He wasn’t really sure what kind of switch flipped inside of Stiles that enabled him to let go enough to enjoy this, but he wasn’t about to question it either. He was getting a small taste, a sample of what it could be like, the last thing he wanted was for Stiles to think it was another mistake.

Stiles’s eyes widened at the touch of the warm, wet tongue, feeling like someone had poured scalding water into his mouth. He ran his own underneath it, hands reaching down to unbutton and unzip his jeans, he stopped though, pulling back and kissing along the older man’s jaw as he grazed his sharpening teeth over the skin, “I’ll be cold, I don’t know if I should touch you, should I?”

He met Peter’s eyes, his own black, the irises red as he spoke, not breathless from kissing, or winded, because he didn’t need the air, but he was shaking like a leaf.

Peter stared at Stiles, close enough to brush their noses together and he smiled, “Your body temperature doesn’t bother me, Stiles,” He reassured, tilting his head again and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the younger man’s lips, “What would bother me is if your father happened to drive by and catch us doing this. So, rain check maybe? Just until we get your stuff and get away from this general area.”

He didn’t want Stiles to think he didn’t want it, but the idea of some one casually walking down the sidewalk and catching them mid-act didn’t exactly thrill him, “Please?” He pleaded with his eyes and leaned down further to press kisses along his friend’s neck, nipping at the cold skin.

Stiles looked around then and realized what he was doing and where he was. He pushed Peter away, eyes returning to normal as he moved from the car and stalked to his house, leaving the alpha behind as he started to think more rationally, mind less hazed with lust. He’d went completely against his better judgement, and against everything he’d said before, just because his fucking teeth were aching. It was the vampire equivalent of thinking with your dick.

Stiles moved to his bedroom window’s side and leapt up, grabbing the sill and hoisting himself up effortlessly as he pushed the window open and climbed in.

Peter gaped and stumbled back, watching Stiles stalk away and he shook his head, sighing as he followed. He had a feeling it was just one of those heat of the moment things, didn’t make it hurt any less, though. The alpha followed suit and leapt up through the window as well, staying next to it and watching his friend as he crossed his arms, “Let me guess, you regret it?” He asked quietly.

“No,” Stiles tried lying as he walked through the darkened room and grabbed out his travel bag, setting it on the bed as he started packing clothes in, “Yes? I don’t know, Peter. I just...”

He stopped and motioned to himself, “I... I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I thought of... Of us being _together_. Of how it was gonna be - how you were gonna be, how I-and **now** it’s like it’s this morally fucked up thing. But all of my feelings for you are practically tenfold, if not more. I didn’t want our relationship to be like **this**.”

“To be like _what_ , Stiles?” The alpha asked, moved forward and grabbing his friend’s wrist to get his attention, “You don’t want our relationship to be **more** , you don’t want us to want one another? I don’t get it, okay. What is so 'morally fucked up' about this? And so help me if you pull the whole ‘I’m dead’ card.”

“No, I think I can agree with you that I’m not... I’m not dead, but I’m definitely not human,” Stiles responded, brows furrowing, “I’d say ‘I don’t know what I am’, but I guess the term ‘Vampire’ comes to mind.”

He pulled his wrist from Peter so that he could finish packing, “Morally fucked up. We’ve been forced into yet another supernatural situation and forced into things we, otherwise, wouldn’t have done. I’m drinking human blood, and you heard Derek, I killed people. I killed three of them."

"The worse part is... I don’t even care, I didn’t care before that I’d hurt them, and now that I know I killed them, I couldn’t care less. We ended up outing our feelings to one another because I was dying, and it all just... It’s unfair, and it’s rushed. And all of these new things that I’m feeling, that I’m going through, I still just wanna throw you down and fuck you, I would’ve, too, right out there, I wasn’t even thinking.”

“It was unfair and rushed, but it happened and there’s nothing we can do about it,” Peter said, backing up to the window and staring out of it, “And the deaths have nothing to do with us being together. So, let me know when you’re done stalling and actually want to pursue whatever this thing is between us."

"We both want it, but all I’m getting from you are excuses as to why it’s so wrong. I love you, but I’m not going to waste my time trying to get you to see things my way when you’ve made it perfectly clear that you plan on being bullheaded about it.”

“I’m **done** stalling and being ‘bullheaded’, jackass,” Stiles responded as he finished and moved to Peter, looking him in the eyes, “I get it, okay? I’m not human, I should stop acting like one. My needs are different, my lust is different, my habits are definitely going to change."

"As long as I’m still Stiles, I think I can handle not being human, but I need to figure all of this out, and I need you to be patient because I don’t understand everything I’m feeling, okay? And part of that includes trying not to think of myself as a walking, talking corpse, but as some weird fucking creature - it’s not easy. I can’t go back and change things, or stay stuck in some celibate, fantasy world where things should’ve been better, especially not now.”

“Alright, so what is this then? Some ‘all good things come in time’ situation?” Peter asked, looking into his friend’s eyes, “I can wait, I can be patient, that’s all you have to ask of me... So long as you’re not pulling any more of your self-deprecating bullshit. I’ll wait.”

“No, I pretty much wanna fuck like... Right **now** ,” Stiles admitted, looking at the bed in consideration before throwing his bag out the window gently, “I’m just not, because-” He motioned around the room and then looked at Peter with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, not really the time. Soon as we’re in a place, and it’s daylight, sex is happening, no more waiting, I’m tired of fucking waiting - waiting made me get bit and turned before I had the chance not to wait - and yeah, I get that I have eternity and all that shit, but I’d really just rather... You know... Fuck **now** , instead.”

“Oh,” Peter said simply, feeling a little whip-lashed. It probably would have just been easier to say that in the beginning, but the alpha didn’t point that out.

He gestured to the window with his thumb, “Let’s go, then,” He said, trying not to come off as too eager.

“Uh huh, someone’s not coming off eager in the slightest,” Stiles responded, raising his brows quickly before climbing out of the window and jumping down. He initially winced, expecting to feel the fall like the hit of a truck, but it was as easy as taking a step forward. He looked down curiously before taking up his bag and moving out of the way.

Peter rolled his eyes at Stiles and jumped out as well, smoothing his hands over his shirt before stalking up next to the younger man, “There’s nothing _wrong_ with being eager... I mean, you kind of left me at the car with a hard-on. I’m anxious to alleviate the issue, because whereas yours doesn’t hurt, mine does.”

“Mine **did** hurt, thank you very much,” Stiles responded, looking at Peter, “It’s just not the same as yours.”

He motioned to his teeth, “I guess it’s... Really different for me, I don’t know if my dick even does anything anymore, it’s just constantly erect, that’s all. But yeah, it hurts - when I pulled from you, after you bared your neck, ugh, it was like the worst, but very different than being denied a human orgasm, vampires are fucking weird.”

“Right, so, your teeth in comparison ache as my dick would from blue balls,” Peter nodded and unlocked the car, “You’re right, vampires are fucking weird.”

He popped the trunk as well for Stiles and slid into the driver’s side, talking mindlessly because he knew his friend could hear him, “So, I’m thinking since we’ve already been out and about this evening, we should wait until tomorrow night to take off. That’ll give us time alone and give me time to load a few things in the car during the day.”

Stiles packed his bag in the back and nodded as he closed the trunk and joined Peter in the front, “Sounds like a good, solid plan,” He agreed, even though it sounded more to him like Peter just really wanted sex. He wouldn’t argue it, anything Peter wanted to do, chances are he wanted to do it as well, “Hopefully going to Nebraska leads to us finding out about how I can walk in sunlight, because this night/day thing is just exhausting enough already. Your sleep schedule is so fucked up right now.”

“I have a feeling we’ll find more than just one answer in Nebraska,” Peter said, starting the car up and pulling away from the curb, “Alan may have been terrified, but I don’t think he’d give us this address if it was a dead end. And my sleeping schedule **is** messed up, so here’s to hoping whatever’s at that address will remedy that.”

He was silent for a moment and frowned, “But if you can walk in the daylight, I’m still not going to be sleeping any better, probably less... At least until I know you’re in control.”

“You could always just chain me up, or find me a nice cage,” Stiles suggested, smirking, “Put me in a bondage suit or something. Aren’t vampires into all the S&M shit?” He was only really _kind of_ joking, but he was curious to see which kind of joking Peter thought he was.

“I doubt all vampires are into it, I think it’s probably more of your personal preference,” The alpha shrugged and glanced over at Stiles, “If you want me to chain you up or tie you up, I’ll do it, but only if you’re on board with it. Then again, I don’t really know of anything that would hold you. I can’t even hold you and I’m an alpha werewolf for fuck’s sake.”

“Mountain ash?” Stiles asked and then paused, “Wait... If Alan had his spot behind the desk protected by mountain ash, he wouldn’t have been backing away from me - if it _worked_ ,” He frowned, now tempted to test the theory out, “If not that, then I have a hard time imagining something. We should train together, that way you can find out my weaknesses.”

“If 'training' involves wrestling around with you at any point I am more than okay with that idea,” Peter said, smiling as he parked back in front of his place, “We’ll find it, whatever it is. You have to have **some** kind of weakness and something **other than** the sun, especially if there’s a way to allow you in sunlight.”

Stiles nodded in agreement, “Hopefully garlic isn’t an issue, or you’re losing the ability to eat pizza and various other amazing things. I don’t wanna have to worry about kissing you, in fear of what you last ate.” Talking about kissing Peter came out sounding so casual that it felt a little weird saying the word in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately this is all we’ve had written of the RP in a good WHILE, which means this fic is going on hiatus. I’m not sure WHEN it’ll be back, but hopefully some time. E> If you have questions, you can always ask on my blog, or on Sparklinski's blog, or in the comments here on AO3. Thank you all, hopefully we’ll be back with more some time in the future, but no promises.
> 
> -WincestSounds


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains very explicit content, oral knotting, and necrophilia.

Stiles climbed from the car and started to move towards the front door of Peter’s place, but stopped when he felt the cold chill inside of him, and he turned to the alpha, moving to the older man as quickly as he could.

He stilled when he felt a sharp, painful bite in his head, “Ow, what the fuck?” he turned to the direction it had came from and stopped as he saw the man laid on the ground a good distance away and Stiles reached up, claws coming out as he picked the bullet from where it had barely managed to settle itself in his skin and looked at it.

“Wolfsbane.”

Peter looked at the bullet with wide eyes, reaching up to put his hand on Stiles’s shoulder, “Stiles-” he started as the vampire’s eyes went black and a second shot was fired.

Stiles caught it in his fist, growling and moving to the direction of the shots within the blink of an eye. He ripped the gun from the shaking hands of the man on the ground and smashed it against a tree, pulling the hunter up and eying the area around before carrying him back to Peter and throwing him down weaponless in front of the alpha.

“Oh, well,” Peter pursed his lips and pinned the guy to the ground with a foot to his neck, “That was impressive,” he told Stiles, nodding and smiling before looking down at the man. “Now, what do we do about you...” the alpha hummed thoughtfully and pressed down harder on his throat, “Why are you here, who sent you? Tell me and I’ll consider not ripping your throat out.”

The hunter stared up at Peter and shook his head, “I wouldn’t tell you, even if I thought you would spare me,” he turned, spitting beside Stiles’s feet.

Stiles growled, teeth and claws growing as he knelt and took the man’s face in his hand, much as he had Peter’s, when he’d bitten the alpha. He leaned down as his nails pressed into the skin and he pulled away, showing the hunter how sharp they were. He tilted his head as he ran them down to the hem of the man’s pants and dragged his nail over the shirt before poking through it as gently as he could, though he was sure he cut skin.

“Humans still value their junk, don’t they?” he asked the hunter, running his tongue over his fangs as he watched the man’s eyes widen in fear.

Peter rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried to suppress a chuckle at the hunter’s expression. The man had every right to be terrified. He’d seen what Stiles was capable of and if he wasn’t so sure that Stiles wouldn’t harm him, he’d be terrified as well.

“You see, I really wouldn’t toy with my friend here too much,” he mused aloud, “It’s been a good while and I imagine he’s getting kind of hungry. That, and if you don’t tell us why you’re here and who sent you, he won’t hesitate to castrate you... and I won’t stop him.”

The hunter started to say something, stammering, and Stiles flexed his finger, pressing his nail in the cut before drawing his hand back and licking the blood from his claw, trying to look as menacing as possible.

“Roderick,” the man said then, eyes wide as he watched Stiles, “A man named Roderick, h-he’s been working with the hunters up north, f-for a while, now.”

Stiles frowned as he heard his sire’s name, and he remembered the feeling of cold when he’d first gotten out of the car, as if he could sense something there.

“Why did he send you?” Peter asked, suddenly uneasy and he clenched his jaw, “The bullet was wolfsbane. It was intended for me, not him... so why did he send you?” he swallowed thickly as he looked at the man on the ground, “He wants him, doesn’t he?” the alpha looked at Stiles sadly before returning his attention to the hunter.

“You’re a liability, that’s all I know, honest,” the hunter said, putting his hands up, “Siring is important to vampires, right? So-so maybe... maybe he wants him, I don’t know, I don’t know for sure.”

Stiles dropped his claw back down to poke and prod at the wound he’d made, “There’s a lot you don’t seem to know. You try to shoot my mate, not once... but twice. Your dick and balls are on the line, for God’s sake, don’t you have anything that might spare your life?”

Peter felt his stomach roll sickly at the thought of Roderick using his bond with Stiles to pull him away, but then he realized what his friend had said and he couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that splayed his mouth wide, “Mate,” he repeated, snorting fondly, “That’s new.”

The alpha crouched down and looked the man square in the eyes, “I’m a liability, so if you take me out... it’ll be easier for him to get to Stiles here.” He sighed, “It’s a shame that’s all you know, I’m tempted to let him sink his teeth in for a midnight snack.” Peter looked up at Stiles and smirked, “That sounds good, right?”

“Sounds good to me,” Stiles agreed, glancing up at Peter for a moment and then looking back down to the hunter, “I’m actually kind of hungry, so it’d spare us there.” He wasn’t sure why now, but he suspected it had something to do with using the speed he didn’t realize he’d even had.

The hunter shook his head, eyes widening even more as the vampire’s fangs came back out, “No, no, please. I told you what you wanted to know, you said you’d spare me.”

“You made me waste my energy and now I’m thirsty, I think the least you owe is some blood,” Stiles trailed as he stood up.

Peter reached down quickly and snatched up the hunter by the front of his shirt, dragging him to the front door as Stiles opened it up and he carried the screaming man in, throwing him to the couch, “Shut up, no one on this block is awake to hear you.”

“Y-you’re-you’re gonna kill me, what have I got to lose?”

“Your life? If you take it like a man, maybe I’ll let you live,” Stiles growled out and then he was on him, climbing onto the hunter’s lap, straddling his waist and grabbing his hair to yank his head to the side.

Peter’s mouth dried as he watched Stiles. He moved closer to see the vampire’s hands running up the hunter’s shirt as he latched onto his neck. It stirred something inside of Peter, a slight touch of jealousy, but even more arousal as he stared, his ‘mate’ writhing against the hunter as he fed.

Stiles moaned hungrily, mouth flooded with warm blood and his eyes lulled closed. He sucked at the skin, feeling the blood smear on his lips and around his mouth. All he could think of was draining the man dry, getting out every last drop of blood left.

“Stiles,” Peter warned as he moved around to the back of the couch to look at him, “Stiles, be care-”

Stiles pulled back and hissed at Peter, eyes solid black and veins prominent on his skin before he leaned back down to make another bite, aiming for the jugular this time.

“Stiles, don’t!” Peter shouted, pushing him off of the hunter. The vampire came at him and Peter gasped in surprise when the arms wrapped around him and the teeth latched onto his neck, “Go, get out!”

The hunter jumped up from the couch, heading for the door in fear for his life.

“Consider this a warning!” Peter managed out, “If you hunt us again, I’ll kill you myself.”

The hunter closed the door behind himself and Peter could hear him running off down the street to where they found him in the woods.

“Stiles, stop,” Peter groaned out as he felt the fangs latch in tighter and he fell back to the floor. He winced and reached up to brush the boy’s cheek, “Calm down, control yourself. It’s me, Stiles.”

Stiles finally stopped, his grip loosening and he leaned into the hot touch, his fangs aching and he let out a loud, desperate, shuddering groan.

“That’s better,” Peter dropped his head back on the carpet where they had fallen. He raised his brows when he felt Stiles’s hips shift against him, the constantly hard erection rubbing over his stomach, “Changed your tune fast there, didn’t you?”

Stiles growled in response, feeding on Peter still but being more gentle about it now. He reached down to tear at Peter’s jeans, shredding them with his claws, then his shirt. Stiles dropped down to bite his nipple, sucking the blood up into his mouth.

Peter’s eyes widened as he watched the vampire feed, his mouth dropping open as Stiles sucked on his right pec like a baby would a breast, “Stiles,” he breathed, smirking, “I think you’ve had your fill of blood for one night.” Stiles may not be able to feed directly on Peter, but he doesn’t want the vampire getting **too** used to this, not until he has more control.

Stiles looked up at Peter, eyes still pitch black and he leaned up to kiss him, smearing the blood against his mouth, “I’m still hungry.”

“I can take care of that,” Peter smirked at the comment and grabbed Stiles by the nape of his neck before flipping them roughly and slamming Stiles on the ground. He pushed away the tatters of his clothes and moved up, straddling Stiles’s shoulders, seated on the vampire’s collarbone, “I’ve wanted to do this for a _long time_ , Stiles.” He grabbed the vampire’s jaw, “Retract your fangs.”

Stiles did so at once without question, staring up at Peter, desperate and hungry for him, “Don’t be gentle with me,” he warns the alpha.

“Oh,” Peter smirked as he pressed the head of his cock into Stiles’s mouth, “I _won’t_ ,” he assured the vampire. He’d wanted to do this for years, since the first time he met the boy, but there was the whole matter of potentially killing him in the process that Peter didn’t want to risk.

Stiles dropped his head back as Peter slammed his cock in all the way, he didn’t even stop when the head passed the back of Stiles’s mouth and went right down his throat. Stiles stared up at him and, while the act didn’t cut off his breath (because he didn’t have to breathe), and it didn’t really hurt, it still felt like pressure. It also aroused him more than anything to have his mouth full of the alpha, he could only hope that Peter would give him more.

Peter gasped as he watched the vampire take in all of him and not even bat a lash, part of him wanted Stiles to remind him that he was still alive (though he wasn’t, not technically), but a deeper, darker side hungered for the more twisted imagery. With Stiles’s pale, dead skin, his purple lips, his chest not rising, his eyes staring up at him like a lifeless corpse… it was everything Peter had ever wanted, but denied himself because he couldn’t bare the thought of Stiles really being dead.

Stiles could hear the excitement in Peter’s heart, the racing joy as he fucked Stiles’s mouth mercilessly, pulling out every once in a while to smack his cold, dead lips with the slick cock, or to smear the tip of it against his nose. It wasn’t difficult to remain still for the alpha. He knew that was what Peter wanted, and Stiles was determined to give him everything he could.

Peter shifted closer, taking the back of Stiles’s head in his fist as he slid his cock back in down to the knot. He humped his face desperately, feeling the mouth limp against his shape, but it spread open more and more as he thrust against Stiles. He stared down at the dead eyes, Stiles’s hands limp at his sides and it sent a thrill through him. He bit his lip, drawing blood as he finally shoved his knot into the vampire’s mouth, “I’ve wanted to knot your mouth up since I met you.”

Stiles resisted the urge to smile or look at Peter, but it made his body tingle to know that Peter had even longed for something like this from him, and still managed to keep it back.

“I’m gonna knot it, I’m gonna knot your mouth and there’s nothing you’ll ever be able to do about it,” Peter pulled back out and looked at Stiles, staring into those eyes that gave nothing away and his love swelled. No one else would give something like this to him, but Stiles did it without even asking, “You look so pretty when you’re dead,” he muttered and decided to test Stiles.

The press of the cock to Stiles’s nose wasn’t new, Peter had done it before, but then the alpha started jerking himself off. Stiles was somewhat confused, but he didn’t move or say anything. He didn’t even flinch when pre-come started dripping from the tip and landing on his nose. The warm fluid was like magma, but to Stiles’s credit, he did absolutely nothing.

Peter shuddered as he watched the still, dead body, and that was when he lost it. He grabbed Stiles’s head in both hands, slamming his cock back in the lifeless mouth and started rutting, his knot popping back in behind the teeth. It didn’t take long for him to lose it. His knot started to swell, spreading the jaw to a tight point… but then it didn’t stop. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t feeling completely satisfied when there was a loud, painful, cracking sound as the knot continued to swell.

He looked down, brushing his fingers through Stiles’s dead hair and down his cheek, staring at the lips spread impossibly wide. Peter gasped and came a second and a third time, and then a fourth, come coming up to fill the empty spaces in Stiles’s mouth, dripping down his lips and chin.

It was minutes before the swelling went down and finally Peter pulled back, a deep satisfaction filled inside of him as he kissed Stiles. For a moment, he felt pretty good about himself, but when Stiles didn’t start to respond again, he began to fear the worst. His heart started racing for an entirely different reason and he grabbing Stiles’s broken jaw, turning the boy’s eyes to him, “Stiles,” he breathed, but the vampire didn’t respond, “Stiles!”

Stiles blinked then and smiled slowly, “You were worried,” he said when his jaw was fully healed back.

Peter dropped against Stiles, pulling him close and pressing his forehead to the boy’s, “Don’t do that, you… you really had me worried.”

“So it was good?” Stiles asked then, looking Peter over, “You looked like you enjoyed it.”

“I’m surprised you **let** me do that to you.”

“Yeah?” Stiles raised his brows, “Well, you wanted it.”

“I did,” Peter confirmed, “I’ve wanted that for so long. The first time I met you all I wanted to do was knot your mouth to get you to shut up.”

Stiles chuckled, “I probably wouldn’t have minded most of it.”

“The dying part is a drawback,” Peter agreed knowingly, “Is it…” he pulled back to look into Stiles’s eyes, “Possible I could convince you to… next time, instead of being dead, to-”

“Flail and act like a panicked victim that’s being suffocated on your cock and knot?” Stiles guessed and Peter nodded, “Anything for you.”

  


“Ready to go?”

Stiles sighed as he carried his bag out to the car and stuffed it in the trunk, “Yeah, I guess. As ready as I’m gonna be.”

“You’re nervous,” Peter observed and moved to him, reaching up to touch his cheeks, “Relax, you’re all full on blood this morning, we won’t have to worry about that for some time.”

“That’s not really what I’m worried about,” Stiles admitted.

“Worried about what we’ll find in Nebraska?”

Stiles nodded and then Peter leaned in and kissed him a few times, deeper and deeper with each one until Stiles was growling low in his throat.

“This is just another trip like any of the other hundreds we’ve been on before,” Peter assured him, “Remember France?” he suggested then and Stiles chuckled, “Chalons? Remember Salem? This is nothing. It’s just another trip. And we have one another.”

Stiles stared at Peter and smiled sadly, “You’re right. We can do this.”

“We can,” Peter repeated, “We always do.”

“We do,” Stiles nodded and curled against him for one last moment.

“It’s just another step,” Peter said, running his palm down Stiles’s back, “And when we come back to Beacon Hills, we’ll see what we can do about Derek.”

Stiles smiled and kissed the spot just over Peter’s heart, “Okay, let’s head out. We’ve got a road to trip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve updated   
> this fic, as a secondary note, I’m ending it completely here. Not only is it a good place to cut off, but I'm afraid I won’t be able to really complete it if I don’t end it here.  
> I’m currently werking on original content instead of fanfiction and I just don’t have time to post werks like this. I’ve had a lot of personal problems over the last few months that make it difficult to motivate myself to even look at these fanfics, and really they just a waste of my energy. But I love you guys, I love my readers. So I’m trying. If you want more, there’s my original werk on my Tumblr, and there are fics in the [Vault](http://cammerel.tumblr.com/Fic%20Sorter) that I might not ever even post.
> 
>  
> 
>    -Cammerel


End file.
